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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24523543">Cor phlebotomans</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MHH19/pseuds/MHH19'>MHH19</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Time Travel, Time Turner (Harry Potter)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 08:48:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>61,610</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24523543</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MHH19/pseuds/MHH19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A killing curse sent Hermione Granger back in time. Fifty years in the past and the same age as the dark lord, better known as Tom Riddle, it was one big nightmare. Hermione thought about killing him and sparing the future a lot of suffering but she couldn't, she had too much of a bleeding heart. But change she must bring one way or the other, no matter the cost.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hermione Granger/Tom Riddle</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>206</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. 1st chapter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This fic is more or less already written, so I will post the chapters pretty rapidly. Every week, I think. I am sorry for any mistakes. The first chapter isn't very long, the next ones will be more.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She had expected pain. It seemed to be such a pointless way to go if there wasn’t at least a bit of pain. Not that she wanted it but after a year of running and basically constant state of fear and pain, it just seemed unsatisfying. She had expected… well, more, really. Her whole life didn’t flash before her eyes just moments before the killing curse hit her. She just… died. She was dead, wasn’t she?</p><p><br/>Really, death was supposed to be different, Hermione thought bitterly. Very different from what was currently happening. Not, of course, that she knew what death was supposed to be like. After all there weren’t any books on it. Although if Hermione remembered correctly (which was highly likely) she had once read a book by some woman called Drusilla Bones (or was it Banes?) who claimed to have died and returned. Allegedly death was supposed to look like some form of train station, which was absolutely ridiculous. The woman probably had sniffed too much pixie-powder or had simply had a very realistic dream.</p><p>Hermione was sure death wasn’t like that. However, she was also sure death wasn’t like this, whatever this was.</p><p><br/>She felt nothing. Well not nothing, that wasn’t right either.</p><p>The air was cleaner than before, and she felt quiet breezes whispering against her skin, making her shiver.</p><p>A trail of Goosebumps went up her arm and made her hairs stand. She felt the briskness of the night (the darkness beyond her closed eyelids hinted at it being night) and she could of course hear herself breathing and if she really concentrated she was able to feel her very own, steady and very much not still heartbeat. Something that should by all means be impossible. After all she had just died. Hadn’t she? She shouldn’t have a body anymore, at least that was what she had imagined all her life.</p><p>Death was supposed to free it from its flesh prison. Apparently she had been mistake. Another disappointment, as if her life hadn’t had enough of those…</p><p><br/>She sucked in a breath of cold air. It tasted like cleanness and approaching winter, which was even stranger. In the last moments of her life Hermione remembered the warmth of the humid air that had made sweat run down her skin and neck. Now that same sweat was chilling her to no end while evaporating into the cold air.</p><p><br/>Where was Carrow, was one of the first thought that shot through her mind after her short musing of death and what it entailed? Was the horrid woman still behind her, wand ready to end Hermione’s life… again? A wand that had seen more death in the last year than it should in a life time.</p><p><br/>Being the brave Gryffindor she always had been, she slowly opened her eyes, slowly adjusting to the darkness beyond her eyelids. It was so dark but she found she wasn’t blind as she first had thought.</p><p><br/>A few seconds ago the air had vibrated with the energy of curse after curse being fired, had been alight with flashes of red, green, gold and all the other colours that existed. The air had been pierced with scream of friend or foe. It didn’t matter, the screams, whomever they had come from, had clenched themselves around Hermione’s heart like a fist. It had made her nauseous. She tasted blood in her mouth. It made her want to throw up.</p><p><br/>She was still in Hogwarts, so much was clear, she noted as soon as her eyes were finally able to make out first shapes.</p><p>She let her gaze wander over the smooth surfaces of walls, windows that were adorned by iron frames and pointed arches. But everything felt fundamentally different even if they structures seemed familiar enough. Everything was clean, no rubble was littering the ground, and no dust was hanging in thick clouds in the air and clogging her lungs. It was rather peaceful. Something Hermione hadn’t experienced in a very long time. What exactly had happened?</p><p>Last thing she could remember was running from the battlefield, chasing death-eaters and being chased.</p><p>Alecto Carrow had been following her, throwing curses at her way. She remembered fleeing like a mad woman, fear pounding through her veins and then grinding to an abrupt halt. There had been no way out, there had been a wall in front of her, blocking her way. The few seconds of frantic search until Alecto Carrow had finally caught up with her were still vivid in her mind. The woman’s skin had been a deathly white in the dim light of the night.</p><p>Screams had made Hermione clench her teeth. They had come from two corridors down. The red hair of the death eater looked like flames, her dark eyes gleamed with murderous sparkle.</p><p><br/>The death eater had been faster, her wand ready and the words flying from her mouth before Hermione had been able to react. Before Hermione could have done or said anything. Avada Kedavra, the words were still ringing in her ears. The icy fear was still pumping through her blood. The curse hadn’t hit her directly though, had it, Hermione realized with a start? No, it had hit the little thing hanging around her neck. Her time turner.</p><p><br/>Instinctively Hermione’s hand went to her chest and she clutched the turner, its edges cutting into her skin. It was still whole. She gazed at it, inspecting it closer, noticing the fine cracks running through the golden material. There was a faint green glow to it. Really faint. Could it be… She wasn’t dead. Her time turner had saved her. There was only one logical solution that presented itself. The turner had probably thrown her a bit back in time when it was loaded with the energy of the curse. Maybe a few days? Maybe a week?</p><p><br/>Hermione’s mind raced, her breath coming quickly. This was the worst thing that could have happened to her. Well, maybe not the worst. After all, the war had made her quite creative concerning anything bad that could happen.</p><p><br/>She would have to hide, she realized if she didn’t want a killing curse to really hit her. She could not go around the castle and get caught. She would have to re-emerge when Alecto will have hit her time turner (she wasn’t too sure which tenses were to be used in these complicated terms). She could do it, she had to. Everything would be fine…<br/>“Who are you, may I ask?” Hermione turned around, wand ready, Adrenalin shooting through her already worn out system. Her plan had been thrown out the window pretty quickly. However, nothing a small Obliviate couldn’t change.</p><p><br/>Her fingers curled around the familiar wood, her eyes blazing and the air around her already crackling with her magic but that all seemed to fade into the background as she gazed at the face that was in front of her.</p><p><br/>Her heart was beating loudly in her chest and her hair was clinging to her forehead as she looked into eyes that had been dull and lifeless the last time she had seen them.<br/>You are dead, she wanted to scream. She wanted to cry.</p><p><br/>“Professor Dumbledore?”, she asked, full of wonder and hope. But that wasn’t Dumbledore, couldn’t be him. Dumbledore was dead. Really dead. Not like her who was… well not dead. The man in front of her didn’t really look like her old headmaster, she realized as she kept gazing at him. He looked like a different version of Dumbledore. Maybe it was his son? The man did look like a younger version of her Dumbledore. Way younger.</p><p>His hair and beard was shorter and it wasn’t white. It was a light brown and his blue eyes seemed somehow clearer. Did Dumbledore have son? Maybe. Who knew, that man had always been so private.</p><p><br/>“Will you please lower your wand and explain how you came into Hogwarts, Miss…?”</p><p>“Granger, Sir. Hermione Granger. And may I ask what day it is?”</p><p><br/>“September 15th, Miss Granger.”, the man answered nonplussed.</p><p>His eyes flicked down her body, concern shining in the blue eyes. She must look terrible, she realized.</p><p><br/>September… It was way worse than Hermione could have imagined. Way worse. She had hoped for a week, two at most. Not a few months. But… something wasn’t right. Who was that man in front of her? Why was everything so clean? From what she had heard about that year at Hogwarts, she’d say it wouldn’t feel so, well, peaceful and quiet. What had Ginny said to her? It basically was a constant battlefield.</p><p><br/>“What year, exactly?”, Hermione asked, her voice thin even to her own ears. She knew she wouldn’t like the answer. It dawned on her that it hadn’t been a few weeks or even months.</p><p><br/>“Well, 1944 of course.”</p><p><br/>It was like a wave crashing on her. Everything was still for a second, but she was already doomed. The water was already pulling her under, taking away her air.<br/>“I take it you really are Professor Dumbledore then?”, Hermione asked, her vision swimming and her hands clenching.</p><p>Why her? Why did bad things always happen to her of all people? Dumbledore only nodded. His face, even when guarded, showed his confusion. He probably believed her to be crazy. Understandable, after all she was on the verge of a breakdown, she couldn’t breathe properly anymore, everything seemed too much, just too much... Her clothes must be dirty and tattered.</p><p>Her jeans and sweater were worse for the wear. She was covered in dirt and sweat and, she finally noticed, in blood. She had blood on her. Was it her own? Did she even care?</p><p><br/>“Are you alright Miss Granger?”, Dumbledore asked, his face again showing true concern.</p><p><br/>“I really am not”, Hermione answered, her voice still wavering. “Well, Professor, to cut my story short, I was hit by a death curse. Avada Kedavra, I’m sure you know the one. Well, it didn’t hit me, it hit my time turner and it sent me back in time.”, Hermione paused, before adding “It really doesn’t sound quite impressing this way…”<br/>Dumbledore furrowed his brow and studied her over his small glasses.</p><p><br/>“Why, may I ask, was someone trying to kill you?”, he asked.</p><p><br/>“I’m afraid I can’t tell you, but I can tell you that I have been thrown fifty years into the past and in my time there is a war going on.”</p><p><br/>“Oh dear…”, was all the young Professor said. He seemed to be thinking. Hermione just wanted to sleep. She suddenly felt how tired she was. It must have been the Adrenalin that was ebbing away. Everything felt slow and sluggish. She was so tired.</p><p><br/>“I’d say we continue this in my office, this isn’t a conversation that is wise to be overheard by students wondering the corridor. You are quite lucky that I found you and not anyone else.”</p><p><br/>Hermione only nodded and followed the Professor. She couldn’t help but notice how youthful his step seemed, how lightly he walked. So different to her Dumbledore. Her own steps were painful, slow and sluggish. She was limping, she realized. She hadn’t felt anything before now. Then again, she had other problems than her leg hurting a bit. Trying to catch up to Dumbledore she pulled her jeans up a bit and saw her skin was tinted black and pulsing. What kind of curse had that been, the academic in her wondered?</p><p><br/>“Oh dear”, Dumbledore said and somehow those two words were worse than him screaming in horror. “I think I should know the counter curse, come!”, he seemed to be a bit in a hurry now.</p><p><br/>She gazed through the passing windows, still limping, trying to forget the… thing… on her leg.</p><p>The dark Hogwarts grounds lay beyond the thin glass. So still and so unblemished. Not how she remembered it. Full of smoke, bodies and creatures that were looking to kill you. There had been so many. Werewolves, with long teeth that were dripping with blood, spiders with hairy legs and fangs… Other things that Hermione didn’t even want to think about. Her hand twitched. She was still in the mind-set to fight. To fight and flee. Everything seemed so wrong. Out of focus. Not like she belonged. She guessed being thrown from one extreme to the next wasn’t the best for her mental stability.</p><p><br/>Dumbledore’s office was not, as she had expected, the headmasters office. How stupid, she knew that Albus Dumbledore wasn’t headmaster in this time but it was hard imagining the man in any other setting than in the wide room with a phoenix sitting next to him. His office in this time was much smaller and more cramped.</p><p>There was a large table with many papers rolls on it and many odd devices that Hermione hadn’t or only seldom seen in her life. She ignored her curiosity and plopped down on a chair Dumbledore had summoned for her. It was going to be a long night.</p><p><br/>“I want to- No, I have to go back to my own time, Professor.”, she said, her voice weak. The man in front of her sighed and only nodded. He had pulled his own wand. If he noticed Hermione flinching at the sight of a wand, he didn’t press it. Dumbledore started casting spells silently, his eyes narrowed in concentration. The pain eased away slowly. The dark pulsing thing in her leg vanished leaving behind no trace.</p><p><br/>“Please call me Albus, I think the situation calls for it. Tea, Miss Granger?”, Albus Dumbledore finally said, after righting himself once more and sitting down, too. His eyes went over her skinny form once again, probably to check for other injuries that needed tending to.</p><p><br/>“No thank you and you may call me Hermione.”, Hermione answered, her voice still thin. Dumbledore poured himself a steaming cup and put one sugar into it. Hermione watched his movements transfixed, it strangely calmed her. While watching the small teaspoon going round in the delicate cup, Hermione’s mind began to organize itself and her thoughts became less jumbled.</p><p><br/>“Well Hermione”, Dumbledore finally started after putting the spoon away “I can assure you that I will search for a way to send you back. In the meanwhile, what do you know about time travel?”</p><p><br/>Hermione shrugged. “Not much, Pro-Albus. I once used time travel in third year but only for one or two hour more time for school.”<br/>Albus Dumbledore nodded.</p><p><br/>“Well, time is a peculiar thing. I believe Muggles have had quite the breakthrough with it. What is his name? Twostone?”</p><p><br/>“Einstein”, Hermione corrected instantly, nearly smiling at her old headmaster. Dumbledore’s eyes glinted over his half-moon glasses.</p><p><br/>“Yes, that would be the one. Time always depends on the one who is perceiving it Miss Granger and the everything that had happen, may it be in the so called future, has happened in the past from your point of view. That is why time travel is so extremely dangerous. Nobody really knows what happens when you travel. It could be that your friends will live their life on without knowing what happened to you or it could be that they cease to exist all together. Nobody knows, but time lies in the eye of the beholder. Wizarding society has made some progress, somehow a travel back in time only a few weeks doesn’t hurt reality but it is said that everything longer disturbs the time so much that one does not travel into one owns reality so to say.”</p><p><br/>Hermione leaned back in her chair.</p><p><br/>“Are you trying to tell me that you can’t send me back?”</p><p><br/>“Probably, Hermione.”</p><p><br/>“Because my future is not the version that is now my past?”</p><p><br/>Dumbledore nodded seemingly impressed. “Very well done, I can see that you are quite intelligent."</p><p><br/>“So what? I will have to stay here? Make myself a life in the forties?”</p><p><br/>Dumbledore sighed and inclined his head, yes.</p><p><br/>“I hate my life.”, Hermione whispered.</p><p><br/>“Don’t dwell on what could have been, Hermione, maybe this is a good thing. This is your presence and you can shape your future how you want it to be. Whatever has happened in your time, you can undo it. It maybe won’t save the time-perspective, meaning the reality, that you friends are living but it will save this one.”</p><p><br/>Hermione watched Dumbledore. It was clear what he wanted. It was information on the future and how to prevent everything that was about to happen. But what would killing Tom Riddle alas Voldemort help? Maybe someone worse would come, maybe life would be even more miserable.</p><p><br/>“If by the end of the school year, Albus, you haven’t found a way, and you must promise to search, then I will work together to prevent a lot of bad things from happening.”<br/>Albus nodded, his lips pulling into a smile.</p><p><br/>“In the meanwhile, I will attend the final year of Hogwarts as I never quite got to that, with being on the run from murderous lunatics and so on.”<br/>“As you wish, we will tell the headmaster.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. 2nd Chapter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>September 16th, and Hermione was finally clean and resembled a human being again. Her hair wasn’t as frizzy as it had been during the battle. It was shiny and fell in waves and not unruly curls. There wasn’t a permanent layer of dirt and swear clinging to her. There weren’t any wounds. There wasn’t any blood. She didn’t look like she had spent the last year on the run. The only reminder was burning a hole through her sweater. Her scar, an angry red and ugly. Mudblood, Mudbood, rang in her ears. She could still feel the pain that she had received at Bellatrix’s wand. It would never go away, she figured, the memory of the pain and the fear. Maybe she was doomed to jump at every loud noise and always reach for her wand first.<br/>
“Well, you are a bit late but that isn’t a problem. We will just sort you today at the evening meal- classes haven’t really started yet either. So you should be able to catch up.”</p><p>Headmaster Dippet was smiling at her. He didn’t know. Dumbledore was standing next to her, his hand on her shoulder. They had made up a story. It was short but believable. Her family died in a terrible accident, Dumbledore was a family friend. He had taken her in and wants to send her to Hogwarts now. It was her first time here. She will be sorted. She was a Gryffindor, she wanted to say. She didn’t.<br/>
“Yes, it will superb for you to be here. You’ll see. You will make friends fast and if you need anything, you can always come to me, my girl. My doors are open for you.”<br/>
Hermione only nodded. She really wasn’t in the mood to make a good impression on the headmaster. She really didn’t care. Even if she had to stay in this time. Everything seemed so unimportant to her.</p><p>She guessed that she still was in shock. The time after a war was always a difficult time. Finding back to normalcy was hard. She knew that. With time she will start to care again. The pain of having lost Harry and Ron will never vanish but she will forget, she will look back at her times with them and feel happiness and not start to ache all over. They weren’t dead after all, at least she didn’t know. Would probably never know. </p><p>“Thank you headmaster for being so welcoming.”, she finally said after the silence had become too much for her. It reminded her too much of the Malfoy dungeon, too much of the woods in the morning when the air was still crisp, too much of the last moment before the big battle, when everything and everyone had seemed frozen.<br/>
“Do you know anything of the houses here? We have four of them, named after the founders of this school and every student will be sorted into one of the houses. Slytherin, the house of  the ambitious, shrewd and cunning. Slytherins are strong leaders and are achievement-oriented. They also have highly developed senses of self-preservation. This means that Slytherins tend to hesitate before acting, so as to weigh all possible outcomes before deciding exactly what should be done. Gryffindors are brave and act before thinking but they always have the best interests in mind. Ravenclaws are intelligent, creative and honour literature and science. Hufflepuffs are kind-hearted and mild in their temper but can be fiercely protective. Which one, do you think will you be sorted into?”</p><p>“I couldn’t possibly say, Headmaster. But I think I have an idea.”, Hermione didn’t elaborated. She had a feeling she knew which house she would be sorted into. She wasn’t a Gryffindor anymore. The war had made her too self-preserving. Being on the run for months at end will change a person.<br/>
“Well, if you don’t have anything against it, Albus, I’d say you spend the day with Hermione and show her around so that she can familiarize herself with her new school. Maybe show her Hogsmeade. You will see, my dear girl that life still has its bright places and you will be able to make happy memories here. Don’t you worry, time can heal any wounds.”<br/>
Hermione nodded, the words of the Professor hitting too close to home. He was right though. Of course he was. Tears pricked her eyes. She fiercely blinked them away.<br/>
“Thank you, Headmaster, you have been most gracious.”<br/>
~<br/>
“I believe you will be in need of clothes and school supplies. As I believe that you won’t be in need of familiarizing yourself with Hogwarts, I say we head to Hogsmeade and purchase everything you will be needing.”<br/>
Together they walked through the empty corridors. The sun was shining through the many windows. Hermione savoured the rays of sunshine that warmed her skin. It reminded her of the good moments last year. When Harry, Ron and her had had a second of peace. When they were walking through a field and the sun was shining. When nobody had talked. When she was looking at a like and watching the sun being reflected in glittering spots scattered over the surface. It reminded her that even in the worst situations there were good parts if you only looked for them. </p><p>“I don’t have any money, Albus.”, Hermione suddenly said, remembering that she came here with nothing but her clothes, wand and time turner. Instinctively she clutched her chest again, savouring the familiar feel of the turner.<br/>
“That won’t be a problem. I will gladly help you out Hermione. I don’t really spend any money anyway. So this will be a pleasure, truly.”<br/>
“Thank you, that is very gracious.”, after hesitating a moment Hermione continued, “I was wondering Albus, I don’t know anything about forties fashion…”, she felt stupid even saying it. But she knew that tight fitting jeans and t-shirts were probably not acceptable.<br/>
“That is a good question and for clothes I would say we head to Diagon Ally, they will have everything you will need.”<br/>
“Diagon Ally?”, Hermione asked, stunned, “but then we will have to…”</p><p>“Apparate, yes. Will you hold on to my hand?”, They had left school grounds. Hermione grabbed his hand and was instantly pulled away. She knew they were apparating side by side. She had done it a thousand times. The nausea didn’t even hit her anymore like it had done before. It felt natural.<br/>
“Quite impressing, you didn’t even flinch…”, Dumbledore gazed down at her. They had landed on Diagon Ally.<br/>
Hermione suddenly wanted to cry. It looked so heart achingly normal. Not like it did during the war. Nobody used to set foot in Diagon Ally anymore lest they absolutely had to. Every corner had crawled with thugs and dark magic. Not in this time. Everything was bright. Woman in long dresses and flowing hair, men in suits and children in colourful clothes milled around. Everything was so full of life. Hermione looked around, taking it all in. She felt strangely content but at the same time as if she didn’t belong. Which she really didn’t. </p><p>“Follow me”, Dumbledore threw over his shoulder before walking away, heading for one of the shops.<br/>
The day went by faster than Hermione anticipated. They went from one shop to the next. Sometimes Dumbledore would leave her for herself and wander of himself. They bought dresses, skirts, stockings, shoes and to her embarrassment knickers. Dumbledore was gracious enough to eat ice-cream with her. Everything felt so normal. She felt slightly uncomfortable with that many people around her. She was scared, she realized, even if there wasn’t any imminent danger. She tried to ignore it.<br/>
They returned to Hogsmeade at five in the afternoon. The sun was still shining but it had a tinge of red in it. The sky was a wonderful blue, the fields around the small village were as green as in early spring.<br/>
“Why don’t you get yourself a treat from honey dukes?” Dumbledore smiled down at her, his eyes crinkling. He put a few gallons in her hand and pushed her in the direction of the brightly coloured shop. “You deserve it Hermione. You were very brave today.”<br/>
Hermione nodded. It was ridiculous how difficult it was to just be normal again.</p><p>She wandered into the shop, taking in the familiar smell. At least this hadn’t changed much. Her skirt (she had immediately changed to something more time-appropriate while buying clothes) made an unfamiliar swishing sound as it whispered against her calves. She wandered through the store, looking at the students that happily strolled through the aisles. Looking at the chocolate section, she stopped in front of the dark, rich bars. They truly looked delicious. When was the last time she had had chocolate? She really couldn’t remember. It had been a long time. It made her think of her parents. They had been dentist. They would definitely not have approved.<br/>
She grabbed a bar. She deserved this, didn’t she?</p><p>“A very good choice. I myself favour the dark ones over those light, sugary bars. They make my teeth hurt.”<br/>
Startled Hermione whirled around, her hand instinctively going to her wand, a stupefy already ready to leave her lips. Before her stood a boy, no a young man, with broad shoulders, dark hair that was sleekly styled to keep off his forehead. His skin was unblemished and incredibly pale. He was, Hermione realized, truly beautiful, a kind of beauty that hurts to look at. She also realized she hadn’t said anything in a very long time and had just stared at him, which was stupid, she was Hermione not some airheaded idiot.<br/>
“I favour them too.”, she said plainly, not looking to engage in a conversation if that boy was… well that. Even if the boy was so handsome it nearly broke her heart but it made her think of Ron and how she never thought of him as startlingly beautiful even though at the time she had thought herself to be in love with him. He had been… what? Passable? He had been there. That was probably the reason for the crush she had had. She glanced at the boy again. Why hadn’t they had men like that in her time? The boy was probably completely stupid and incompetent. Hermione had learned that the pretty ones usually were. That was the reason why everybody had been so bloody surprised at the Yule ball. Because Hermione had been clever and a book-worm, she shouldn’t have been pretty. She should have stayed ugly.<br/>
“Well, then I feel obligated to purchase it for you, Miss…?”, the boy asked, smiling lightly. It did not reach his eyes and Hermione felt instantly wary. Something about this boy was off. As much as he pulled her in, like a flame did a moth, he also pushed her away with his perfect acting skills and impenetrable charming front he put up.<br/>
“Thank you, that won’t be necessary.”, Hermione answered, clutching the chocolate closer to her as if cared that he would rip it from her.<br/>
“Oh, but I insist.”, he said. The way he smiled made Hermione uncomfortable. It was fake, so much she knew. She handed over the bar, not wanting to fight.<br/>
“Granger. My name is Granger. Hermione Granger.”, she finally added giving him a half-hearted smile.<br/>
“Pleasure, Hermione, my name is Tom, Tom Riddle.”</p><p>Everything seemed to freeze, she didn’t dare to make an abrupt move, show any indication that she knew that name. Knew that Tom Riddle was Voldemort. Of course things could only get worse. What was she supposed to do? She could kill him, rid the world of Voldemort and make it a better place, wasn’t that what Dumbledore had said. She was still clutching her wand, the wood digging into her flesh. She could do it but he was just a boy. He didn’t look innocent but he hadn’t done anything to harm her in any way. She didn’t want to kill. The world had seen too much death, she had seen too much blood already. She wasn’t the one to decide who got to die or who got to live. Only because the edges of good and bad had blurred during the war and every one of them had done things that were questionable didn’t mean that killing was acceptable. Not for the greater good, not for saving future lives. </p><p>Dumbledore was right, this was a different reality, she would never return and the boy that stood before her wasn’t responsible for the crimes his future-self did. Even if she knew that Tom had already had made Horcruxes and therefore had killed people, it still wasn’t her place. Who knew who would arise in his stead? Maybe someone worse. She wouldn’t do anything to make this timeline worse. Would you kill Hitler if you could travel in time was the muggle equivalent, she mused. For children or youths the answer almost always had yes, I would. Their understanding of moral was limited and unenvolved. It was easy to say, I would kill for the greater good. In the end, however, the right answer had always been no. Neither was it morally justifiable nor was it wise as nobody could truly tell what would happen in his stead. Killing someone was never an option.<br/>
“I can’t but think that I don’t know you. I have not seen you around. Are you new?”, Tom asked his tone polite. They stopped at the counter and he paid for her chocolate. It was absolutely surreal. Hermione wanted to laugh and maybe cry. He was standing close to her, his arm nearly brushing her. Clever, Hermione thought. An easy way to establish trust was to casually invade the other person’s personal space.<br/>
“Yes, I am new, I will be sorted at dinner.”, Hermione replied nonchalantly.<br/>
Tom looked exited. Why, Hermione didn’t know.<br/>
“That is fabulous, so little happens at Hogwarts. Have you already heard about the houses?”, he said and to Hermione’s surprise there was actual excitement in his voice. He smiled down at her. A kind of real smile this time and it made Hermione feel weird, because this was Voldemort for god’s sake. But the smile made him even more handsome.<br/>
“Yes”, Hermione said with a bit more venom than intended, trying to get rid of these strange feelings she had. She still wasn’t sure if shouldn’t just kill him. Ron would have. Harry probably would have. But Ron was cruel in his own stupid way. She had seen how he took pleasure from seeing those, who he thought evil, die. Harry wasn’t like that. He had always had more of a bleeding heart. Like herself. Maybe he wouldn’t have been able to do it, just like she couldn’t bring herself to do it.</p><p>“Well, I am in Slytherin. I believe it is the best house but opinions differ very much you will find. If you want I can show you around in Hogwarts, it would be my duty as headboy.”, Tom said as the lady finally returned his change. He smiled again, this time it was definitely not a real smile and he looked too greedy when he offered her to show he around. She was new, Hermione realized, she was new and therefore a challenge and interesting. He was trying to see if she was worth collecting.<br/>
“I will have to decline, Professor Dumbledore already showed me around.“, Hermione answered, uncomfortable again at how close he was standing. It wasn’t close enough to warrant a glare and a step back but it was still too close. He looked surprised at her mention of Dumbledore, his eyes narrowing, before he schooled his face back into a polite smile. He had expected her to say yes. Had expected her to be eager to spend time with, after all he was the spitting image of the perfect boy, polite, handsome and charming. She narrowed her eyes and didn’t break eye contact. </p><p>“Ah yes, I see…”, Tom’s tone was suddenly not as polite as it was a second before. They had arrived outside and he was looking at Dumbledore with open disdain. “I’ll leave you to it then, hopefully I will see you at dinner.”, with that he walked away briskly. Hermione stood still for few seconds. Letting it all sink in. Her life really had gone to shit, hadn’t it?<br/>
~<br/>
She wore the forties appropriate school uniform that was given to her when she finally entered the great hall. Shocked she stopped and just looked. Everything was like it used to be in her years in Hogwarts. The ceiling was enchanted so that clouds were hanging over the tables the students were sitting at. The whole room was filled with laughter and people talking in all directions, the tables were filled with all kinds of food.<br/>
The last time Hermione had seen it, everything had been grey and lifeless. The window shattered, the walls crumbling, the tables destroyed, wooden splinter and rubble littering the stony floor. The sight of this great hall, still intact and so beautifully alive, was… unhinging. Hermione felt sad to her very core. Why had she been born to such a time? She thought of Harry and Ron. Why had they been born to such a time? None of them deserved that, none. Maybe she could change everything. Make Harry have a better life, at least in this reality.</p><p>“Are you quite alright, Hermione, was it?”<br/>
She had been lost in her own thoughts, something that she hadn’t been for years. Constant vigilance had been the motto.<br/>
She turned around, a bit too forceful, her hand instantly going to her wand and clutching it in a tight grip. She found herself staring into dark eyes that spoke of extraordinary intelligence and cunningness. They were staring back at her intently with a good measure of mistrust in them. Of course Voldemort didn’t trust her. He probably saw right through her polite demeanour and saw that she hated him. She did, didn’t she? It was hard to associate this boy, this student, with the snake like creature she knew as Voldemort. It was… unhinging, again. But then again she was unhinged, a war did that to everyone, she supposed.<br/>
“Perfectly fine, thank you. Thomas, was it?”, she said, just to spite him.</p><p>“Just Tom.”, Tom answered, his brow furrowing. Hermione just hummed non-committedly, her eyes leaving his aggravatingly beautiful face.<br/>
“Well, it’s been a pleasure but I will have to get going.”, she finally said, walking away without glancing back. She felt Tom’s eyes on her back. She knew he didn’t trust her. Well, the feeling really was mutual but she hoped he wouldn’t pursue his interest with her. She wasn’t sure how well she could lie to him. She wasn’t a good liar.<br/>
“Ah Miss Granger, just on time.”, Headmaster Dippet said cheerfully when she approached the table the Professors were seated at. The hall had become quieter, everyone wondering why a lone student dared to approach the table. She didn’t care, being in a war had unsensitised her in many ways. Being the centre of unwanted attention was hardly the worst thing she had ever experience. Being Harrys friend had more often than not brought on a lot of hate.<br/>
“Dear students at Hogwarts.”, Dippet announced to the room that had gone deathly silent now, “We will be sorting someone today so that she can begin her education as soon as possible. Please take a seat, Miss Granger.”, the Headmaster gestured to a lone stool. In his right hand he was carrying the hat. Hermione eyed it with disdain. Not this again.<br/>
The worn leather seated upon her head felt like it did in first year. Oddly familiar. </p><p>What do we have here?, she heard it say inside her head. Let’s get this over with, she thought back hauntingly. Oh yes, the lion is coming through, but at heart you aren’t one anymore, are you? I suppose not, things have changed, she thought. Yes, I think we both know you are too self-preserving to be a Gryffindor, you have seen too much to be that unthinkingly brave anymore.<br/>
“SYLTHERIN”, the hat shouted, confirming what Hermione had already known for some time now. She had changed, drastically so, but while Harry and Ron would have been devastated, she knew that it wasn’t necessarily for the worse. It all depended on what you did with that change, now wasn’t it?</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The walk to the Slytherin table felt unfamiliar at best. The green-silver banners hung over the long wooden table, moving in a slight breeze that wasn’t really there. The dark green was actually quite lovely, Hermione mused as her Uniform changed to the according colour. For the first time she could let herself appreciate it as she too was a snake now. Her gaze flitted over to the other tables. They were just as long and dark as the Slytherin one but somehow the cutlery on the wood seemed to much more in order than on the other tables. Hermione guessed it had something to with the Pureblood upbringing most of the students in Slytherin had undergone. For a beat Hermione glanced at the Gryffindors. They were, as usually, in an endearing disarray. </p>
<p>The room was still deathly quiet and Hermione’t stepped echoed through the high-ceiled hall. The Slytherins sat stiffly (how else) on their places where Hermione studied them while approaching the front of the table. There wasn’t any open hospitality yet but the students in the green robes were suspicious. Of course they were, they were Slytherins after all. Hermione could see it on their faces as her gaze bounced from one to the next. They were seizing her up. They had never seen her before and that was not a good sign, for them at least. All the purebloods knew each other. They were wondering what she was. </p>
<p>Mudblood, Mudblood, Bellatrix’ voice rang in her ears, the woman’s screams still piercing her skull like a knife. Her scar was burning on her arm. Hermione wondered if it was a bit like Harrys scar, which used to burn when Voldemort was in the vicinity. <br/>Once Hermione was seated, the hall finally went back to concentrating on their food rather than the new girl. There was loud laughter from the Gryffindor table that boomed through the whole hall, making Hermione jump a little in her seat. Staring at the plate in front of her, Hermione felt the dull ache of missing her friends in her chest. Her heart hurt from the pain of having lost them, maybe for ever. She missed the cosy Gryffindor common room and its warm colours. She missed Ginny and Ron with their fire-red hair and, dammit, she missed that git Draco Malfoy.</p>
<p>Now, when she glanced around her, she only saw unfamiliar faces that looked at her with disdain. With a small smile Hermione returned her attention to the silver platter in front of her. Was it just her imagination or was the cutlery at the Slytherin table much finer than at Gryffindor? All those Purebloods thought so highly of themselves, whereas she was to them a potential Halfblood or even worse a Mudblood. She was inferior to them, to their blood and good magical breeding.<br/>Hermione smiled brighter. They didn’t know that Hermione had fought against their future grandchildren and had won more often than not. They didn’t know what she had to do while fighting a war. Hermione smirked lightly. One year at Hogwarts won’t be the end of her. If could survive Voldemort than she could survive a few spiteful glances thrown her way.</p>
<p>“Granger, I haven’t heard that name before…”, some girl suddenly said, startling Hermione. The girl had perfectly manicured nails that she was inspecting before levelling her gaze at Hermione again, a sneer evident on her face. Typically Slytherin. Everything was a game for power. Games that Hermione didn’t want to play at. The girl, Hermione mused, could even be pretty if the ugly glint and sneer weren’t omnipresent on her face. She should try smiling once in a while. <br/>Hermione let silence settle over the group that had stopped their eating and was watching intrigued. Clearly they were waiting for Hermione to show a reaction, to be embarrassed or to look scared of the other girl. But Hermione just stared with a passive face. Just before the silence became unbearable, she finally answered. <br/>“Well, that is hardly my fault, now is it?” </p>
<p>The girl’s sneer became more pronounced and her gaze flicked over Hermione’s form. Looking at Hermione’s hair with open disgust the blond girl was about to answer as her brown eyes narrowed, when someone interrupted her. Quite rudely so, if Hermione was being honest. But alas, she wasn’t really in the mood to have a bitch fight with some random girl, so she was glad.</p>
<p>“No need for that Vinda”, his voice wasn’t even loud but it needn’t be. It could command the whole room without trying. It was smooth but at the same time it made everyone present shiver in some kind of ancient instinct, telling them to submit or run. It was the voice of a predator. The table turned deathly silent, nobody daring to say anything. It was quite ridiculous, as Hermione thought. Slowly and with as much grace as she could muster, she turned to Tom. He really was startlingly handsome, Hermione realized for the… what? ... Third time? His face was fairly symmetrical, his hair falling lightly into it but not in the way that Harrys hair used to. Not at all, it didn’t seem unintentional in any way. It seemed as nothing about that boy was unintentional. His high cheekbones made his face seem more mature and more masculine. The black and green of his robes really did suit him. They definitely were his colours. Vinda, as Hermione had learned, batted her eyelashes at Tom. </p>
<p>“I was just having a nice conversation with the new girl. Nothing to be worried about.”, with that she turned away, blond hair swinging, and ignored the snorting of another young man. Hermione turned again and looked at the new face. The boy, or rather man, had blond hair. It was rather thin and looked like it belonged to a pixie and not a man in his late teens. He was fairly well built, looked regal with his definitely expensive clothes. His nose looked strangely familiar and his pale skin was mostly unblemished. <br/>“You must be a Malfoy”, Hermione blurted out. She knew that nose. Draco Malfoy had had that exact nose. Her heart ached again. The Malfoy of this time seemed impressed with her, something Draco never had been or at least had never shown. </p>
<p>“I see my reputation proceeds me.”, he said smoothly, grinning at her and looking her up and down. As best as he could while she was seated at least. Her mind flashed to the Malfoy manor. Her arm was burning as she desperately tried to not hyperventilate. <br/>“I’m sure it does”, she replied flatly, grabbing her goblet and sipping on her water to distract herself. Only now did she realize how thirsty she was. During a war, water had not been on the forefront of her mind so she seemed to be in a constant state of thirst now that she had enough water again. <br/>“Vinda Rosier”, she whispered to herself, just now remembering as the normalcy at the Slytherin table returned and nobody paid her any mind. Sometimes her memory even startled herself. Where had read that again? In some book about Purebloods, she was sure.</p>
<p>The rest of the meal went by without a hitch. Hermione didn’t eat much nor did she talk to anyone. She didn’t have an appetite. No wonder as she wasn’t used to eat so much if at all. It would take time to accustom herself to the abundance of food again. At the first signs of the meal ending, she rose with every intention to instantly head to bed and to get a good night’s sleep and avoid all the other students. She had had enough of her first day. </p>
<p>“May I escort you to the Slytherin common room?”, a voice came from her right just she took the first steps in direction exit. Too close again, Tom again.  Hermione levelled her gaze at him. He was much taller than her, she had to crane her neck, and his dark eyes were full of intelligence which seemed to glimmer behind his dark orbs. They were so intense that Hermione felt the need to look away. Voldemort was a Legilimens , wasn’t he? She did look away at that thought, suddenly interested in a boy tripping over his feet by the Ravenclaw table. </p>
<p>“There is no need. I am able to find my own way.”, she answered coldly, looking at the Hufflepuff table and studying the students there with forced interest. <br/>“Oh, but I insist.”, Tom answered with a slight smile as Hermione glanced back. She couldn’t keep her gaze from his face that long. It was rude. But she avoided his eyes. One dark silky curl fell into his face. It was so damn deliberate that he looked like all those muggle male models on the big posters in muggle London. And Hermione was oddly jealous that this boy didn’t only have the looks but also the intelligence that superseded everyone else’s. Why was he still so close? She could even smell his cologne and it made her uneasy because she liked it and this was bloody Vodemort. </p>
<p>“Well then, lead the way.”, she drawled, deciding to not fight him on that. Choose your battles wisely, her mind whispered.<br/>Tom smirked triumphantly in that slippery way that all Slytherins seemed to have perfected, thinking that he had won. Smoothly he offered her his arm. It was definitely unhinging to see Voldemort acting like a gentleman. It was absurd but Hermione accepted the arm without much hassle. <br/>“I must apologize for Vinda, she doesn’t know any better. She always had been jealous of other pretty witches because she feels threatened by them.”, Tom mused in a conversational tone as they walked through the big entrance. Hermione let her gaze wander over the many ornaments that decorated it. After all, it was her first time in Hogwarts, she should be impressed by these kind of things. <br/>Did he just call her pretty? Hermione snorted a bit in her mind. That was so… so charming. It was very un-Gryffindor the way he paid her a complement without really doing it. It made her smile lightly, like it was a small secret between just the two of them. Had Ron ever paid her a complement, outright or veiled? She remembered when he so eloquently told her “You are a girl, right?”. Np, Hermione decided, Ron had never, not even called her simply pretty.</p>
<p>“I’m sure.”, she answered, sarcasm dripping from her voice, trying to not be charmed. Which was harder than she wanted to admit.<br/>“Though I have to admit myself, I am curious how it came to be that you joined Hogwarts this late…”, Tom continued in an awfully casual tone all the while looking like a cat that was playing with his dinner. This mouse fights back, Hermione thought with a smirk. <br/>“I had to sort out a few things at home before I could come.”, Hermione answered lightly adapting his nonchalance. Two could play this game. <br/>“And why did you want to come here?”<br/>“My family died.”, Hermione said bluntly,  “I didn’t want to stay in the place they used to be.”<br/>“My condolences.”, Tom replied. He didn’t seem sorry. It seemed as if he really didn’t give a shit. <br/>“Thank you.”, she answered. They didn’t say anything for a while, their steps echoing through the still empty halls. They had left earlier than most of the students. Hermione watched the many portraits and paintings that they passed. They all in return watched her and Tom curiously.<br/>“Granger, was it?”, he questioned after a few moments, his tone still light but thoughtful.<br/>“Riddle, was it?”, she answered in the same tone.<br/>He hummed non-committedly.<br/>“Peculiar name”, Hermione added. He didn’t answer.  She didn’t say anything more. They stayed silent for the rest of the way, both aware that the other thought that the other wasn’t a Pureblood. A strange impasse. None could judge the other but Tom probably did judge her anyway. Everyone was beneath him in his opinion. Or least in Voldemort’s believe. </p>
<p>“Welcome to the Slytherin common room.”, Tom said, as the door finally swung open. The first though that Hermione had, was that she never had seen it before today. Her second was that Harry and Ron already had. It was more beautiful than she ever could have imagined. The interior was smooth and luxurious, the sofas weren’t used and grubby like in the Gryffindor room. No, they were made out of leather and in an immaculate state. However, they weren’t any less inviting. <br/>Astonished Hermione let her hand slide over the surfaces of the many wooden tables that were all over the room. The wood was polished and dark. It was nothing like in the Gryffindor common room. It was so much better in a way. There were big windows that let in eerily green light. They were in the great lake, she remembered. She had read all about it in Hogwarts: A History. The Slytherin common room was under the great lake and sometimes the students could see the big kraken. She hoped she would get the chance to. It really must be a fascinating experience.</p>
<p>Taking her eyes off the windows she once again let her gaze drift through the common room. Then she finally spotted it. A grand piano adorned the room and it was a glossy black and truly magnificent. It stood still but at the same time demanded attention in a frozen and eerie way. Hermione approached it cautiously with childlike wonder in her eyes. She hadn’t played in over a year. Her hands started to itch, her fingers trailed over the cold surface. </p>
<p>“You play?”, Tom asked. Hermione whirled around, startled. She had forgotten about bloody Voldemort, who still was in the room. Actually, Tom was quite close, as he usually was. Only half a meter behind her, again in her personal space and this time again emitting that wonderful masculine scent. It smelled so clean… it made her want to lean in. His glossy hair shone in the dim light of the common room. He shifted his weight and put his arms behind his back. Again, he looked like a true gentlemen, well-mannered and handsome.  </p>
<p>She took a step away and her back touched the cool piano. It was cold to the touch but oddly comforting. Her fingers gripped its edge. She smiled besides herself and nodded. <br/>“Yes, I used to love it. Is this piano in use or is it more of a decoration.”, she asked, wondering if she ever would get the chance to coax music out of the instrument.<br/>“I believe it is still usable even if nobody plays. Sometimes the younger children like to play on it but I usually tell them to stop. It is such a proud instrument, hardly for such childish endeavours.”, Tom answered his gaze dark but not unfriendly. He seemed to be delighted to at least have gotten one tiny detail out of the new girl. <br/>Hermione’s hand itched to play once again. She longed to hear the sweet symphonies, to feel the cold hard keys under her fingertips. Without thinking she sat down and put her hand on the smooth surface. It was like she could feel the instrument vibrate with excitement at the prospect of being played again. She pressed down with her right pinkie finger and the clear sound of an E was heard throughout the room. Hermione grinned and started to play, the music drifting through the air, swaying with a kind of sadness to it but at the same time the tune was hopeful. She loved this song, it was her mother’s favourite. Für Elise, she remembered trying to teach it to Ron. He had been so terrible at it that she could only laugh at his attempts. She was sure that Tom, Tom who still stood next to her and was listening intently, would be a much faster learner. As quickly as that thought had emerged, she pushed it away. </p>
<p>She let the music fade out at the end, hitting the last keys with great softness. Silence settled over them again. For the first time since arriving in the past, Hermione felt like herself again. She didn’t feel detached from reality like she was watching someone else, she didn’t feel like walking through a dream. No, she felt herself again, her heartbeat, her own breaths, she could even feel her own magic shimmering inside herself. How ironic that the first steps to healing were made with Tom Voldemort Riddle besides her. How fucking ironic.</p>
<p>The silence was broken rather rudely. The first Slytherins came through the door, chatting loudly, some glanced in her direction weirdly and some watched Tom not without a measure of fright and respect in their eyes. Without saying anything to the young man next to her, Hermione stood, her back stiff, the feeling of elation swindling away. She nodded in his direction and fleeing the room, his dark eyes still burning in her back. Was that Legilimens or was it just her?</p>
<p>The Slytherin girls dormitory was, as expected, much nice than the Gryffindor one. She used to have to share with eight other girls, now it was only two of them, Lucretia Black and Angelica Fawley, a small girl that didn’t even said hello. Lucretia did have an… unhinging… resemblance with Bellatrix Lestrange. Hermione clutched her wand tighter when she saw her the first time. If Lucretia noticed anything she didn’t let on but this was a Slytherin girl so she probably did. Hermione didn’t even try to engage the girls in a conversation, they didn’t seem so eager to talk to her themselves. The room they shared was dimly lit and the big four poster beds cast long shadows over the dark floor. Hermione starred transfixed for way longer than necessary. Shadows had been things she had learned to fear. In the forest everything could hide there. <br/>In the Malfoy manor only sinister things were found there. Her mind went back to the dark cold dungeons. The walls had not been smooth the air had been freezing. She remembered as the icy coldness of the darkness had slowly crept inside their minds, diming any hope and happiness they ever had had. <br/>Hermione closed the curtains, isolating herself. She could finally go to sleep. She was so tired. It didn’t take long for her to fall into the blackness of her dream world. Chased by nightmares of odd creatures hunting her, blood and sinister places, Hermione didn’t sleep well. With the first grey light that slipped over the horizon she was wide awake, her limbs heavy but her mind a little clearer.</p>
<p>She pulled herself out of bed despite the cold and dragged herself to the bathroom. For the first time in a long time she could take her time with getting ready, while on the run she had not had that luxury. Her school uniform was pleasantly warm and cosy, she was by all means the most comfortable she had been in over a year. Pulling herself away, she finally exited the bathroom again half an hour later. Lucretia and Angelica were just starting to wake up. Without saying anything Hermione grabbed her things and headed out. She had something she wanted to do before going to the great hall for breakfast. </p>
<p>Nobody paid her any mind as she stalked through the corridors of the castle, nobody was up and about yet only the portraits watched her with open curiosity. <br/>It was a girl’s bathroom she finally came to stop before. Swinging the door open she stepped inside. It looked like all the others in the castle did too, white and clean. But Hermione knew that this one was different, this one was the one that had the entrance to the chamber of secrets hidden inside it. Hermione let her gaze travel through the room, wondering where Myrtle was. She would probably emerge from one of the toilettes soon. Harry, Ron and herself had sat on this very floor in second year. She could still hear their laughter. Leaning against the white washbasins Hermione starred at her reflection in the mirror. Tears pricked her eyes. She had lost all of them, she could never try and restore her parent’s memories, she would never hug Harry and Ron, she would never see Ginny again, and she would never spend Christmas at the Burrow again. Her breathing sped up, despair pressing down on her chest. </p>
<p>“Do you always follow girls to the bathroom?”, Hermione finally hissed, turning around to face none other than Tom. His face was cold as stone as he watched her. His eyes were impossibly dark, standing in a stark contrast to his skin. Nobody said anything as they watched each other. <br/>“My apologies”, Tom finally said, his tone too neutral. “I just saw you coming in here and thought that, as you are new, you wouldn’t know. This bathroom is not in use anymore, everybody avoids it.”<br/>“Yes, because of Myrtle, I heard.”, Hermione answered. Murderer, Murderer.<br/>Tom only nodded.<br/>“Tim, was it?”, Hermione added, still watching from her place leaning against the sinks. Tom’s façade faltered slightly, anger flashing in his eyes. She shouldn’t play with Tom Riddle. That was a dangerous game but Hermione didn’t particularly care. <br/>“No”, he said slowly “Tom.”<br/>Hermione hummed non-committedly.<br/>“Escort me to breakfast, will you?”, she said as she finally brought her body to move and approach him. Her steps felt oddly mechanical. His gaze didn’t break as he kept watching her. It made her nerve ends burn, it made he feel accelerated, it made her feel alive. What was wrong with her? He offered his arm with a graceful smile, his eyes still dark and mesmerizing.<br/>“With pleasure, Hermione”<br/>“Thank you, Tom”, she said smirking at him, his face faltered slightly at her use of his actual name this time. <br/>“You seemed quite disturbed in there, Hermione. Are you alright.”<br/>“Quite, thank you for your… concern.”<br/>“It is the least I can do as my duty as headboy.”<br/>“Ah yes, your duty. Tell me, Tom, how did Myrtle die?”<br/>Tom clenched his jaw, anger flashing through his eyes again. Hermione smiled again, her blood thrumming in her veins. <br/>“That is a long story and not something discussed before breakfast.”<br/>Hermione only hummed non-committedly and changed the topic quickly.<br/>“What is our first lesson again? Ah, I remember it was Defence against the Dark Arts, wasn’t it?”<br/>“Oh yes”, Tom said “We have started with the topic of Patronus and how to cast them but don’t fret, most won’t succeed in doing so and therefore there is no preasure on you.”<br/>“I’m sure though you have already succeeded in it, haven’t you?”, Hermione said lightly, before seeing the anger in his eyes again. “Or do you lack happy memories Tom?”<br/>“Patronus are quite unuseful in real life. Dementors can be swayed differently. Besides I can cast one, just not corporal”, he said and he was surly about to add something before they were interrupted. </p>
<p>“Tom!” Hermione turned around to see Malfoy speed walking to catch up to them. <br/>“Abraxas”, Tom said flatly. <br/>Abraxas Malfoy really was handsome in that weird Malfoy way, Hermione noted. His hair nearly reached his shouldered and he was thin in a regal way that made him look sophisticated. His grey eyes were lighter than Draco’s had ever been but not less cutting. He smirked at Hermione, looking her up and down. <br/>“There you are Tom, I was looking for you. Are you going to the slug club tonight?”<br/>“Of course I am, Abraxas, aren’t you?”<br/>Ah, the famous Slug club, even in this time... Hermione mused to herself as she continued to watch Abraxas.<br/>“Well” Malfoy said “You see I have a… meeting… with Violet and I was wondering if today was really that important…”, Abraxas looked hopeful. <br/>“I am sure it won’t be that important.”, Tom said and Abraxas started grinning. <br/>“Thanks.”, with that Malfoy sat down at the Slytherin table with them and turned to converse with the other people around him. Hermione ignored Tom and sipped on her tea contently. </p>
<p>~</p>
<p>“A Patronus charm”, the DADA-teacher said with a booming voice “can someone tell our new student, what it exactly is?” <br/>The teacher was fairly young, Hermione noted, maybe in his late forties. His dark hair was just starting to grey. Nobody raised their hands. After a few seconds of silence, Hermione did because, frankly, it was ridiculous.</p>
<p>“Well, Miss Granger, enlighten us.”<br/>“A Patronus charm is cast by using the spell Expecto Patronum, it channels positive energy so to cast it successfully the caster has to think about the happiest memories they possess. As it is used mostly against Dementors it is usually conceived as difficult because those creatures are known to suck out the happiness in everything around them.”<br/>“Yes, very well done Miss Granger. Today we will be trying to cast one ourselves. Don’t stress yourself out if you don’t succeed, it is not required at NEWTs but of course it will bring you many bonus points. Now, with me, Expecto Patronum.”<br/>The whole class tried the charm a few times, most of the students were not very enthusiastic others didn’t even try. <br/>“Well, we will start trying to cast it in pairs. Everyone get yourself a partner.”<br/>The whole class was in movement, everybody turning to their friends. Hermione didn’t care. She starred at the blackboard unseeing, until the chair next to her was being pulled out. </p>
<p>“Thomas”, Hermione said flatly, looking in those dark eyes again. <br/>“Just Tom, I am afraid”, he said, his jaw clenching. “I thought maybe you would be in need of a partner, Hermione.”<br/>The first tries of the Patronus charm could be heard around the class. No silver light filled the room. <br/>“Not your favourite subject, is it, Tom?”, Hermione said, balancing her wand with practised ease in her hand.<br/>“Not really, I would find it much more useful to learn other things… Of a different nature.”<br/>“I’m sure”, Hermione answered. <br/>“Shall we practise? Expecto Patronum” Tom said the words with cutting precision. Silver light poured from the tip of his wand, and the class went quiet. The teacher smiled at Tom not surprised at all.<br/>“Tom”, he said “As usual you don’t disappoint. Don’t fret Miss Granger, Tom always is the first one to succeed so nobody expected you to match his skill and talent”, he said smiling in her direction. Hermione flushed red, anger rising. How preposterous. Tom smirked at her. <br/>“Oh, but she hasn’t even tried, yet.”, he said with glee evident in his eyes as he continued to smirk at Hermione. <br/>"Well, don’t you want to try, Miss Granger?”, the Professor asked a little put out by the situation. It was clear that Tom and Hermione didn’t like each other or at least riled it each other up. Hermione starred the Professor in the eyes before turning to Tom. She smirked back.<br/>“Oh, I will try my best, Professor but I won’t be disappointed if I can’t match Tom”, she raised her long brown wand and felt the magic thrumming inside herself. She hadn’t used it for such a long time. Her wand was used to be casting stun after stun and charm after charm. Hermione thought of Harry and Ron, she thought of her childhood with her parents, she imagined them winning and she imagined hugging her best friends and finally being free. <br/>“Expecto Patronum” she said, her voice steady. An otter broke free at the tip of her wand. It shone in a silver light and danced around the room, leaving a trail behind itself until it vanished in a silver cloud, slowly fading away. <br/> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“A corporal Patronus”, Slughorn said to Hermione, glee evident in his voice.<br/> “Very impressive, Miss Granger, I really am glad to have heard it from your Professor. Very impressive, indeed. Tell me, Miss Granger, do you have an affinity for other subjects, too, or was this rather an exception and a one-time thing?”</p>
<p>Hermione looked at the younger version of the Slughorn of her time. There were many differences. The Professor’s hair wasn’t grey for starters, he also seemed fitter and his eyes were not as dull as she remembered. Maybe the alcohol that, as Hermione recalled, Slughorn always enjoyed too much had taken its toll over the years.<br/>“I hope not, Professor.”, she answered with a smile. He nodded. </p>
<p>“Of course, I only heard the best from all your Professors. Also Professor Wick said how talented you were at charms…”, he smiled down her before continuing, “Well, on a completely unrelated note, I have this small thing called the Slug Club. You see it is just a small circle with the best of the best. It is for people like yourself to forge alliances with colleagues. I usually host a dinner with all participants every month. Coincidently, today is such a day and I would be absolutely delighted if you could come, Miss Granger.”<br/>Hermione grinned again. She had already once been invited (or rather will be), some things never change. <br/>“It will be my pleasure.”, she answered. She hadn’t liked the Club in her time, she probably won’t like in this, but if she really was to stay here in 1944 she better get herself connected. At some point she will have to take up a job and work to earn her living. <br/>Slughorn clapped his hands with childlike glee. “Perfect, eight o’clock straight and Tom can escort you, he knows the way. Won’t you Tom?”, Slughorn said, his twinkling eyes turning to his favourite student.</p>
<p>“Of course”, Tom answered with a small smile. He was standing next to her and Slughorn, going through the ingredients acting as if he wasn’t eavesdropping. Hermione knew better.<br/>“I find myself doing that quite often.”, he added with a smirk in Hermione’s direction, while putting some spider legs away. <br/>“Yes, indeed”,  Hermione said icily, “Tom seems to have an affinity for escorting women. In addition to other rather odd… affinities.” They glared at each other, Tom’s hand clenching, Hermione’s fingers twitching for her wand. <br/>“I see…”, Slughorn said his eyes jumping from Tom to Hermione and back. He was clearly not sure what they were on about. <br/>“I will see you both then, later. No stop Mister Lestrange, that is not how you do it!”, Slughorn angrily stormed off, leaving Hermione alone with Tom. Not a situation she was particularly fond of. <br/>“The dress code is formal.”, Tom noted, looking at her from the corner of his eyes.<br/>“I think I will manage.”, Hermione said in a sing-song voice. “Will you be needing that?”, she asked just as she grabbed the bottle of phoenix feathers that he had clearly every intention of using. Without waiting for an answer she turned around, returning to her seat. </p>
<p>The rest of the day went by without any problems which was a win in Hermione’s book. Although her mind kept going back to her conversations with Tom and every time she started grinning like a maniac. It was too much fun riling him up especially because it seemed like nobody else got under his skin like she did. However, she also kept coming back to his dark eyes. Even when his face was still as stone she could sometimes see the emotions reflected in the dark orbs. It was fascinating how much feelings Tom held inside of him, so much passion and so much magically power was just brimming under the surface. No wonder that Tom became… well, Voldemort. <br/>Still smiling Hermione finally abandoned her schoolwork for the day, it wasn’t as if she didn’t know all those things already, and started to get ready. She still had an hour but if she wanted to do anything with her hair she would need the time. </p>
<p>“I heard you were invited to the Slug Club?”, came a voice just as Hermione was staring at herself in the mirror, wondering what she could do with her face and hair. She spun around. <br/>“Well, yes”, she answered raising the brush she was holding in her hand as a kind of clarification. Lucretia was watching her with caution. The other girl wasn’t in their dorm. She usually is with her boyfriends, Lucretia had said as an explanation. <br/>“Do you need help with your hair?”, the girl suddenly said. Silence descended upon them. Did Hermione hear correctly?<br/>“You want to help me? Why is that?”, Hermione blurted, not trusting the woman in front of her. Flushing red Hermione looked away. That hadn’t been very Slytherin of her. Then again, she had once not been one, so wasn’t too hard on herself. <br/>“So that is how we are going to do this. Refreshing your approach to things. Let’s just say that I have had enough of all the boys’ gloating about their exclusive club. I wish I could see their face tonight when they see you.”, Lucretia said, before adding “And you hair looks horrid, it really is for my benefit as much as yours. I don’t want to see that”, she waved in the direction of Hermione’s hair  “ever again.”</p>
<p>Hermione laughed despite herself and nodded. She really could need the help and Lucretia’s reasoning seemed sound. She too was looking forward in a way to the Slug Club. Even if it was only to show Tom that she was just as good as him.</p>
<p>Forty-five minutes later Hermione’s curls were falling in soft ringlets, her face wasn’t as worn and sharp as it had been. Running and the lack of food had made her less feminine but somehow Lucretia had helped her bring a bit of softness back in her life. Hermione starred herself in the mirror. She thought of the Yule ball, Ron, Harry and even Viktor. How she missed those times. She missed how she used to laugh with her best friends, how her biggest concern was her little crush on Ron. <br/>“I think this is formal enough.”, Lucretia re-entered the bathroom holding one of Hermione’s dresses that she had bought with Dumbledore in one hand. In the other hand she held a pair of shoes that weren’t Hermione’s. The dress looked fitting, Hermione noted. It was a tight fitting (but not too tight) blouse kind of dress that went a bit over her knees which apparently was all the rage now a days. The shoes were of the same colour and had an acceptable high heel without being inappropriate for such an event. Hermione assumed they were Lucretia’s. They were fancier than anything that Hermione owned, that was for sure but somehow Hermione wanted to wear them. They looked elegant in wizarding community way. Something that the Hermione Granger from the future would never entertain.  </p>
<p>“I’ll let you change”, Lucretia said as she walked out, throwing one last smile over her shoulder. As the door closed, Hermione started to undress, cautions to not ruin her hair, as she pushed her jumper over her head. Her eyes instantly fell to her scar as she stood facing the mirror. The bright red lines were glaring back at her with silent accusation. The skin around the already healed wound was slightly raised, looking like the wound had been inflicted only the day before. It will never go away. The crimson of the letters, that spilled out that hated slur that she had heard too often in her life, looked somewhat amiss in her dreamy white skin. </p>
<p>What was she doing? Hermione had abandoned her friends. They were still fighting, or will be, she didn’t even know if they would survive. What was she doing? She was getting ready to eat dinner with Voldemort of all people. What was wrong with her? She was playing friends with people that would kill her future friends and allies. <br/>Then again what should she be doing? Certainly not sulking around and hoping to be sent back. Dumbledore knew it, she knew it. She would never be able to return. She was stuck so why shouldn’t she take the chance to make friends even if that friend was a Black. (She didn’t dare think of Tom).</p>
<p>Her scar burned again, memories of the Malfoy dungeon and of pain, so much pain, flashed across her mind. Her whole body felt numb, she herself felt detached. What was she doing? The scar was hurting. Bellatrix and her crazy eyes were above her again, screeching. How did you get into Gringotts?? <br/>“Are you ready Hermione? Someone just knocked and I think it is your escort.”<br/>Startled Hermione blinked at herself in the mirror, the edges of her vison blurrung. Who was she? What was she doing? Tom was here and she was going to the Slug Club with Tom. Yes, she would make the best of it. <br/>“I will be out shortly. Tell Tom to wait for me in the common room.”, she called out, gripping the edge of the sink and taken deep breaths.<br/>There was a silence before Lucretia asked in wary tone, “Tom Riddle?”<br/>“Yes, the one and only. I will be ready in an instant.”, Hermione replied, pulling the dress on and trying not to rip anything. It was harder than it seemed. She heard footsteps retreating, indicating that Lucretia had left again. The light in the bathroom seemed overly bright as sweat broke out over Hermione’s skin. She could hear the screams of her friends ringing in her ears. Her vision blurred again.</p>
<p>She had to get it together. Slowly she closed her eyes and tried to let calm wash through her body. At first, it seemed impossible but after the tenth or so breath she could hear the things around her again. The weight that had been pressing down on her chest slowly faded away.<br/>The floor was reassuringly cold under her bare feet, she flexed her toes to check if everything still was as it used to be, to check if she felt herself as she should. <br/>The dress was a nice fit, as were the shoes. Head held high Hermione finally exited the bathroom. Lucretia was sitting on her four poster bed, her black hair falling down her back in soft curls. </p>
<p>“Hermione”, she said “I know it is not my position but I feel obligated to tell you. I have already noticed that you and Tom… well he seems to respect you which really is an exception in itself.”, Lucretia’s tone was barely above a whisper. “But don’t expect anything from him. Don’t think that you can be someone to him, at least not in that way…”<br/>“Are you telling me that I shouldn’t expect any loving feelings from Tom? Thanks, Lucreatia, but truly I know.”<br/>“It is just that I have known him for seven years. He is not like other boys, I think he has done stuff… That he shouldn’t. And Hermione don’t you dare tell that anybody, Tom is like… a prince here but not in a good way. Most people listen to him more than they listen to the Professors, he has them all under his thumb…”, Lucretia’s brown eyes reflected fear as she starred at Hermione willing her to understand. Of course Hermione knew that. <br/>“Don’t worry, I won’t be having a torrent love affair with Tom, believe me and I am not stupid enough to run to him telling him stuff.” Lucretia nodded, looking relieved.<br/>The common room was deserted, maybe it was because everybody knew that Tom would be there. Lucretia did just warn her effectively that everybody was scared of Tom. So it wasn’t a far stretch. </p>
<p>“Hermione”, Tom said as soon as she stepped a foot inside the room. His back was turned to her. He was fiddling with a ring on his finger. With a start Hermione realized it was that ring. So he had killed his family already, she thought to herself bitterly. She shouldn’t be surprised. He had taken the ring from the dead finger of his grandfather and had made a Horcrux out of it. That made two she mentally noted. </p>
<p>“Tom”, Hermione replied flatly, stopping at the piano and leaning against it. “Peculiar ring”, she said feigning nonchalance “A family heirloom?”<br/>Tom turned to her smirking. She smirked right back. If only you knew, she thought smugly. His gaze flicked down her body in an oddly sensual way. It made her stiffen her back. Her fingers clenched. Why she didn’t know. Hopefully they were itching for her wand. Gracefully she pushed herself off the piano and took a step toward him, Lucretia’s words still ringing in her ears. What a preposterous notion. As if she would… no, never. </p>
<p>“Ready?”, she asked, suddenly feeling uncomfortable under his stare. His eyes were so black, darker than normal. <br/>“Of course”, he answered smoothly, not breaking his gaze. He offered his arm. Hermione took it. Ron always had been so warm, even in the deepest winter he had been a furnace. Tom seemed to be the exact opposite, he seemed to be cold to the touch. <br/>Amused Hermione thought what Muggle doctors would say to that. Too little blood, maybe? Even more amused Hermione’s mind went to blood transfusion. She imagined Draco Malfoys precious blood being sullied by some muggle blood. Her mind jumped to her blood, her blood on the stone of the Malfoy manor. Bellatrix standing over her, her eyes filled with pure hatred and just plain craziness. <br/>She glanced at Tom, trying to distracted herself. Mudblood, Mudblood.<br/>“So, Tom, it is hardly a surprise that you too have been collected my Slughorn.” Tom smiled and it was the most genuine smile she had seen so far. Mudblood, Mudblood, still rang in her ears.<br/>“Professor Slughorn is most gracious to have such an interest in the future of his students and he tries to help achieve them great things.”<br/>“Yes, I am sure receiving tickets to every Quidditch game and being on first name basis with the prime minister is just an unwanted side effect.”<br/>Tom smiled again, watching Hermione out of the corner of his eyes.</p>
<p>“How you ever came to be a Syltherin, I am not quite sure.”, he mumbled under his breath.<br/>“Well, you will never know what the hat said to me or what his reasoning was, now will you?”, Hermione said in a sing-song voice.<br/>“Maybe I will one day.”, Tom said, his tone casual but his eyes boring into her. She came to a halt involuntarily. His eyes, don’t look at his eyes!<br/>“Ah, Legilimens, that isn’t very gentlemen-like, now is it Tom?”, she said, glancing away.<br/>Taken aback, Tom narrowed his eyes. “I never said anything of the like.”, he said, his tone just above a whisper. <br/>“I will have to brush up on my Occlumency, won’t I Tom or can you keep you mind to yourself?”, Hermione said, anger rising in her voice.<br/>“Oh, I would never dare, wouldn’t I Hermione?”<br/>Hermione just raised one brow. They stared at each other, nobody backing down. <br/>“You are most peculiar, Hermione. You don’t really strike me as someone who just recently lost her family.”<br/>“Not only family, friends too.”, Hermione said, her heart aching.<br/>“Interesting. I wonder what happened.”<br/>“Maybe if you ask nicely, I will tell you one day” she would definitely not “but don’t just pluck it from my mind, will you?” <br/>Tom lightly grabbed her elbow and started walking again. <br/>“I always get what I want, Hermione.”, he said in a threating tone and for the first time Hermione felt true icy fear slither down her spine. She was back in the ministry of magic, facing the death eaters, facing Dolohov. Hadn’t he whispered something like that? She remembered Harrys face after Sirius died, the anguish clear in his green eyes. She remembered…<br/>“We are here.”, Tom said, his voice too loud for Hermione. Her fingers twitched in the direction of her wand.</p>
<p>“Ahh, Miss Granger and Mister Riddle, the party can finally start. Welcome, welcome.”, Slughorn ushered them inside. The room was just like Hermione remembered. Everything was the same. </p>
<p>Other students, members of the Slug Club, were seated at the round table. With a start Hermione realized that she was the only woman in the room. So that was what Lucretia ment. Clenching her jaw she took the seat that Tom had pulled out for her. Of course he was sitting next to her. She should have known. <br/>The air was uncomfortably still, everybody was staring at her. She realized that she was probably one of the first women in a very long time if not ever to be here. <br/>“Thank you for inviting me, Professor, that was very gracious.”, she finally managed to say. Nobody moved. Well, that was bloody awkward. </p>
<p>“Yes, yes, of course Miss Granger, I only heard the best from all your other Professors. Tell me, Miss Granger, when did you manage the corporal Patronus charm?”, Slughorn asked as he himself sat down. Food appeared in front of all of them. She supposed it looked delicious. She wasn’t really hungry. She felt the gazes of all the men at the table on her and it made her uncomfortable to be under scrutiny. It made her hand go to her wand. Because she knew those men were the ones that would later fight in the first wizarding war but they wouldn’t be in the order of phoenix. No they would be following Tom. Ice took over her body, suddenly she felt as she was seeing reality for the first time since arriving. Tom was Voldemort. Somebody who had killed, had killed Lily and James Potter, had killed thousands of other people. But those men on this table were just as guilty, they thrive off the bloodshed. </p>
<p>“A few years back, Professor.”, she answered with a light tone not betraying her thoughts. She needed to stay away from Tom. <br/>“Really, that seemed unlikely…”, one of the students at the table said. <br/>“Why should I be lying”, Hermione answered hauntingly. The boy only raised his eyebrow. His hair was sandy blond and his face seemed like someone took it part and put it back together in the wrong way. He really wasn’t a pretty sight. <br/>“Oh, I don’t know, Miss Granger.”, he answered in a smooth tone. <br/>“As usual”, Hermione muttered, glancing away and concentrating on her food. She remembered the boy, he was in her classes and was exceptionally stupid. “It really isn’t that hard”, she continued louder “If you haven’t manged, maybe the problem lies in the happiness of your memories.”<br/>The boy furrowed his brow, obviously not sure if that was an insult or not. He turned away not answering. </p>
<p>The atmosphere was still rather uncomfortable, even after the other students had started to converse with each other. She didn’t want to eat, she wasn’t hungry at all. <br/>“Don’t let Edger get to you.”, Tom said lightly as he reached for something next to her and as a consequence leaned into her.<br/>“He doesn’t. His weak attempts at insulting me don’t even scrap at other things I have had thrown in my face.”<br/>Tom frowned, apparently surprised by her answer. His eyes flashed with interest. <br/>“Trying to pick my brain again, Tom?”, she whispered so that only he could hear her. He smiled. It wasn’t his usual smile which was unreal and seemed more like a threat than anything else. No, this smile was slightly crooked and it nearly reached his eyes. <br/>“I wouldn’t dare.”, he answered lightly. His thigh brushed hers. Hermione jumped, nearly pushing her glass off the table. She looked in a different direction. Her cheeks flushed red. She needed a distraction. She glanced to her right. </p>
<p>The boy sitting there was tall regal looking (like most of the Slytherins). He had dark hair like Tom but without a little curl to it. It was completely straight. His green eyes glanced back at her. Something was unsettling about that boy, his eyes, even if they resembled Harrys a lot, were filled with cruelty. <br/>“Raymond Nott”, the boy said, leaning closer to her, his voice charming but devoid any emotion. Hermione shivered and not the good kind. <br/>“Hermione Granger. Pleasure”, it really wasn’t a pleasure. <br/>“Granger… Haven’t heard of that family before. How strange, Miss Granger.”<br/>“Right, well I am from far away so I am not surprised.”<br/>Nott only nodded but his green eyes betrayed his mistrust. She ate the rest of her dinner in silence.</p>
<p>~</p>
<p>Those dinners were held every month as Hermione had been told. She was sure she wouldn’t be invited to the next one, the first one had been bloody awful but she had taken it in stride. At least she could proudly say that she wasn’t on good terms with any of the other students present at that dinner anymore, so she counted it as a success. </p>
<p>Over the next three weeks the whole castle soon knew that Hermione Granger was academically speaking a one-of-a-kind witch. She knew the answer to every question, she always succeeded in casting any charm. They rumour going around was that she and Tom were on par in brilliance, though Hermione had to admit that Tom was truly astonishing. He had a natural understanding of magic that was missing in most wizards and witches. He didn’t just cast, no he ordered his magic to do his bidding and he used it to do whatever he wanted to. When Tom cast a charm the whole air around him seemed to vibrate with the sheer power that was simmering under his skin. Everything he did was effortless and Hermione was a tiny bit jealous but at the same time she was drawn to him, to his magic. He was such a brilliant young man, for the first time in her life Hermione felt like he would be able to appreciate her thirst for knowledge and not laugh at it. She felt as if Tom, out of all people, would understand her. </p>
<p>Even so Hermione tried to stay away from Tom as much as she could but it was hard. They sat next to each other in DADA and were always egging the other on. More often than not he made her so angry that she stormed out of class as soon as possible to escape his smooth voice. He often tried to engage her in a conversation but his tone was cutting and his questions deliberate. He still didn’t trusting her, Hermione guessed and it was hardly surprising. He knew that she was hiding something but didn’t know what. <br/>With Tom having a rather unusual interest in her, all the other Slytherin tried to stay out of her way. They didn’t want to cross Tom. He truly had them all under his rule, Hermione mused, just as Lucretia said. </p>
<p>On weekends Hermione often ventured to Hogsmeade on her own but as she always seemed to accidently bump into Tom, she soon stopped her adventures through the village and opted to stay in the castle. He always seemed to be exactly where she was, which was unnerving. When she went to honey dukes, he was there, smirking at her. Once he even purchased another bar of chocolate for her in reminiscence of the first time they met. It was unsettling because Hermione wasn’t sure why he did it. <br/>Probably to gain her trust but that seemed rather unlike Tom. He wasn’t one to do something so obvious. He knew that she wasn’t stupid and that she in turn trusted him as far as she could throw him. He always offered to escort her back, she always declined. He always stayed at her side and told her interesting historical facts about Hogsmeade and more often than not Hermione lost herself in his tales and listened with rapt attention. She usually caught herself and left as soon as possible for the safety of the castle. He was Voldemort after all, how could she be so civil to him… Harry, Ron and the others would be disappointed. </p>
<p>She hadn’t slept well since arriving in the past. More than once had she woken the other girls with screams while she was trashing in her own bed, caught in nightmares that kept coming and coming. She always dreamed of her friends, of them dying, of them being tortured, screaming in pain and agony. <br/>Why aren’t you here, Hermione? They would ask. I can’t, I can’t, I am sorry, Ron! Harry! I AM SORRY! </p>
<p>The nightmares were always worse after encounters with Tom, guilt weighing her down. Lucretia didn’t comment on Hermione unusual sleep but she put a silencing charm around her bed every night. </p>
<p>One night in particular Hermione woke up covered in sweat, tears running down her cheeks. She had to get herself under control. This couldn’t go on. <br/>With shaking legs Hermione dragged herself out of bed. She didn’t want to go back to sleep again. She didn’t want to see what lay waiting in her dream world. <br/>Slowly and silently as to not wake anybody she crept into the common room, her bare feet not making any sound as the traipsed over the cold floor. Darkness lay over the usually light filled room. The water beyond the glass of the windows was a deep black that seemed impenetrable. She looked away, the darkness making her uneasy. <br/>The piano was just as black, but the keys were even with only the dim light to guide her visible. Casting a silencing charm over the common Hermione started to play. She played every piece of music she knew by heart and some she didn’t know, where she only knew parts and bits. It didn’t matter, because it made her calm. It made her happy.<br/>From that moment on she made it a habit to come down into the dark room at night-time. She wasn’t used to so much sleep anyway, it made her antsy. <br/>After especially bad nightmares she would come down and play until the sun rose in the east or she finally gave up exhausted and tired. <br/>In the library she read all the books on time travel she was able to find and they were absolutely unhelpful. </p>
<p>At breakfast she had started to read the daily prophet even if only to brush up her knowledge of the forties. It was hard to imagine that at the same time that she spent sitting in schoolrooms or in the great hall the Second World War was taking place in Europe. It was unimaginable. The wizarding world didn’t cover very much on that topic and Hermione was glad. She didn’t need another thing weighing down on her consciousness. </p>
<p>October came with cold weather and it made Hermione feel miserable. With thick wool socks she walked through the castle, alone as usually, deep in thought. The rain pounded against the high windows and made her sleepy with the rhythmic thrums. It was a gloomy day and she just wanted to get over with it.</p>
<p>The loud boom behind her made the blood in her veins freeze over and all thoughts of hers stop instantly. Suddenly she wasn’t tired anymore. She was in the woods again, the snatchers behind her, running, running, being caught, Malfoy manor, darkness… Breathing heavily she came back to herself, her hand was shaking, her sight was out of focus. Fight. At the tip of her wand were huge eyes, eyes filled with fear. Two girls, Gryffindor girls, Hermione noted, were staring at her, trembling too. A prank… A prank… it was only a prank, it must have been some kind of bomb, something to give her a small scare.</p>
<p>Mudblood, Mudblood. </p>
<p>Hermione smelled the smoke of the battlefield Hogwarts had become again. She could feel the pain, the fear that had kept her going even while bleeding. She could feel her muscles trembling in exhaustion. </p>
<p>Jerkily she lowered her wand. Everything was still out of focus. </p>
<p>“Don’t”, she hissed at the girls “do something like that again.”, she finished weakly, suddenly feeling tiered again. Just now she realized that everyone had stopped and was staring at her. She realized that she was still breathing too fast, her hands were still shaking. This wasn’t normal, everybody knew. Everybody was wondering what was wrong with her. <br/>“Ten points from Gryffindor, for the both of you.”, a hand touched her shoulder. Hermione jerked away. Tom, Hermione wanted to whisper but she couldn’t speak. Suddenly she was being pushed along, Tom still had a hand on her shoulder. Where were they going? Nobody was around anymore. She was pushed in an empty classroom, bright light filtered through the windows. Hermione blinked a few times. <br/>“You make me curious Hermione.” his voice said not unkindly, “Nobody knows you or your family, who are supposed to be all dead together with all your former friends.” Tom said, “Sometimes it looks as if you just click out of reality, your eyes glass over like you are somewhere else in your mind. I heard about your nightmares Hermione. Tell me, what makes you scream so viciously?”<br/>“Who told you about them?”, Hermione whispered, her hands still trembling. She had to get a grip. Where was her wand? Ah, there it was. She gripped the wood hard enough to splinter it. </p>
<p>“Lucretia came to me, voicing her concerns. She said you always scream very worrying things.”, suddenly Tom was next to her, touching her, his breath tickling her neck. “You know you can tell me, right Hermione?”, he whispered. Hermione felt her body burning, everything seemed to be in focus again. Every breath she took made her mind clearer until she was finally ready to face Tom. Turning she gazed at his eyes, they were as dark as the night, watching her with heated intensity. <br/>“Oh yes, I can trust you, can’t I Tom?”, Heat flushed her face. It was because of the anger rising in her, wasn’t it? It couldn’t be because his face was so close or because of his gaze ghosting over her face. </p>
<p>“What gave you the indication that you can’t? I haven’t done anything to you, Hermione.”<br/>“Tell that to Myrtle”, Hermione snorted before realizing what she just said. Her blood froze. <br/>“What?”, Tom whispered his eyes widening. Before she could respond, pain exploded through her mind. Memories were ripped from her, flashes of pain, so much pain danced through body. Malfoy manor, pain, pain, dead bodies, smoke, running, Sirius dying, Dolohov following her, running, running, her time turner… <br/>Gasping Hermione pushed, pushed and pushed until she stumbled back, her wand in her hand, ready to be used. Her whole body was shaking, every fibre of her very being ready to fight. </p>
<p>“You foul little…”, tears pricked at her eyes, her voice a deadly whisper. <br/>“You didn’t leave me any choice.” Toms own voice was rising, his eyes wild, slightly crazed. “I waited a whole month to tell me your secrets. That is more leniency than I would have granted anyone else.” Tom hissed out, righting himself. His hair was the most in disarray that Hermione had ever seen them in her life. His cheeks were flushed. Suddenly Hermione was grabbed by a undeniable want to pull him down to her lips and just make him shut up. She hated him so much.<br/>“Oh, how gracious Tom.”, she answered instead, her voice dripping with venom even with heat pooling low in her belly. She was still gripping her wand tightly. <br/>“Well, Hermione”, Tom said after a beat of smiling and he looked much too smug “I think the right question, I will have to ask  this time, is when are you from and not where.”<br/>She wanted to slap him. She wanted to kill him. </p>
<p>“You are from the future, aren’t you? That is how you knew about Myrtle. That is why you are so different, like you just don’t really fit in this reality. Why you already seem to be familiar with the castle upon just arriving. You went to Hogwarts didn’t you?” <br/>“Yes, I did Tom.” Hermione answered bitterly, “I am from the future, I know about Myrtle and how her death was your fault because you opened the chamber of secrets. I know that your mother is a witch and drugged your father with love potions. I know that you grew up in an orphanage, I know that you have already killed your father.”<br/>“Fascinating” Tom answered, his eyes burning with passion. </p>
<p>“I know Tom that life hasn’t shown you mercy and that is why you will never show mercy in the future. I know that you are a brilliant wizard using his power for all the wrong things. I know that I don’t despise you half as much as I should.”<br/>Tom didn’t answer. Hermione laughed silently. Of course he wouldn’t. <br/>“I know that I just want to go back to my time.”, she whispered. <br/>“Fascinating.”, he said again. “So in your time there is a war going on, what is it about?”, he asked, taking a few steps in Hermione’s direction. <br/>“Oh, of course I will tell you. Bloody hell I will. You will have to pry those memories from my dead body.”<br/>Tom looked her up and down his gaze still unsettlingly heated. <br/>“I apologize”, he suddenly said, his tone sincere. “I shouldn’t have but I was just so… “, he didn’t finish. <br/>“Fuck off, Tom, before I stab your eye out with this wand. I don’t need magic for that.”, Hermione whispered. <br/>Tom seemed taken aback by her use of language. <br/>“That is quite violent for you Hermione, isn’t it? Wouldn’t have pegged you for cruel.”<br/>“What shall I say, Tom, you bring out the worst in me”, Hermione said bitterly. <br/>“I really am sorry Hermione that was uncalled for. I shouldn’t have.”, Tom said again, his tone wary, he was touching her shoulder again and spun her around so that she was facing him. His breath ghosted over her face and made her feel alive. He made her feel alive, even if it was with anger. </p>
<p>“Fuck off”, Hermione whispered weakly. He smiled lightly. Seconds passed, he was still touching her and was burning through her clothes. <br/>“Hermione”, he suddenly whispered, his dark eyes on fire. It was too much, what was happening? Hermione pushed again for the second time this day. Out, she had to get out before she did something she would regret. She wouldn’t be played with, she wouldn’t fall for Tom. She was out of the door before Tom could say anything. Basically flying down the empty corridor Hermione could finally breath again but where he touched her didn’t stop burning for hours.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Oh yes Tom and Miss Granger, I am looking forward to seeing you tomorrow evening! I thought that this time we will be having ice-cream as a desert even if it is October.”, Slughorn said with a jolly voice, licking his lips subconsciously. “Ah, and you too Mr. Malfoy, what a shame that you weren’t able to join last time.”, he added with a smile towards the blond boy.  </p>
<p>Abraxas Malfoy smiled politely at his Professor, only his eyes betraying that he in fact didn’t want to come to the Slug Club. Malfoy, Hermione mused, didn’t need to go something as trivial as a Club to forge connections. Abraxas was born with them. </p>
<p>“It will be a pleasure as usual”, Tom said with a small nod in Slughorn’s direction. The Professor seemed elated. <br/>“Why am I still invited?”, Hermione blurted as soon as she and Tom had left the class room.<br/>“You are a brilliant student. Slughorn won’t let you get away. He has high hopes for you for sure.”, Tom answered in a nonchalant way. Did he just call her clever?<br/>“In case you didn’t notice, nobody wanted me there. Slughorn must have seen how uncomfortable everybody had been.”, Hermione answered wondering why she always ended up talking to Tom of all people. </p>
<p>“Not nobody”, Tom answered, his voice barley above a whisper. <br/>“What?”, Hermione answered, turning his way. Who had wanted her there?<br/>“Don’t you think that the weather is unusually good for October?”, Tom suddenly said and the sheer weirdness of Tom speaking of the weather was enough to make Hermione forget about their previous conversation. </p>
<p>“I suppose… Been nice talking to you Tom, I gotta, well, go”, Hermione said, finally getting herself to just let Tom be and leave. </p>
<p>“Just a second Hermione”, he said, reaching for her wrist just as she was about to turn away “due to the good weather, you surly must feel the desire to pay Hogsmeade a visit. I have noticed that you haven’t been there a long time.”, Tom looked horribly uncomfortable as he said this, there was a light tinge of red in his cheeks. <br/>“Right, well I have found the clientele in Hogsmeade to be lacking…”, she answered, still mystified what he was getting at and trying to not let him notice how much it affected her that he was still holding her wrist. Why wouldn’t he just let go? </p>
<p>“Go with me to Hogsmeade. It seems like you could use the distraction Hermione.”, Tom finally managed to say and it was more of a command than a question. His eyes had lost their warmth and he was looking at her as if willing her to accept.  </p>
<p>Hermione laughed, her heart doing odd things in her chest. She ignored it. <br/>“Why on earth would I go with you, Tom?”, she said, her tone venomous. He just wanted her for her knowledge, her mind whispered. Every nice thing he would say, everything he did, was just to lure her in and make her tell him everything she knew.  <br/>He still looked uncomfortable but his eyes were turning darker and darker by the second. <br/>“I know your secret, I don’t really think you have a choice in that matter.”, he hissed, cheeks turning even redder. It stood in stark contrast to the rest of his pale skin. Well, that sobered Hermione up pretty quickly. </p>
<p>He was so much taller than her. It was a bit intimidating the way he leaned a bit down to her, towering over her.</p>
<p>“You won’t say anything”, she hissed, looking around them and checking if anyone was listening in. They were alone. <br/>“Not if you agree”, Tom said, smirking, thinking he had won. <br/>“Fuck off”, she hissed again but knowing that she had to relent. She wanted to scream. She started walking again instead. <br/>“That wasn’t a no”, Tom laughed, catching up to her. Was he laughing at her? She didn’t dignify it with an answer. <br/>“5 o’clock in the common room don’t be late!”, he called after her as he finally turned away. She hated him, she truly did. Her hands were still shaking minutes after her encounter with him, her mind going back to his dark eyes. </p>
<p>~</p>
<p>“I am going to Hogsmeade today, do you need anything?”, Hermione asked Lucretia who was sitting on her bed looking at her homework blankly. Curious Hermione approached and looked over her shoulder. </p>
<p>“The answer is devil’s snare, it doesn’t like sunlight.”, she said, after reading the question.</p>
<p>“Thanks, I was wondering what strange plant doesn’t like sunlight and no, I don’t need anything. Are you going with anybody?”, Lucretia asked while scribbling the answer on her sheet.<br/>“Yes, unfortunately.“, Hermione said bitterly.<br/>“Whom?”<br/>“Tom, but it is not what you think. He blackmailed me into going.”</p>
<p>“Tom?”, Lucretia pushed her homework away. “Why would Tom blackmail you into going into Hogsmeade with him? Why not just ask?”</p>
<p>“He asked, I said no. I don’t want to go with him. I don’t know what he gets out of this.”, Hermione answered, still angry at Tom. He was such a manipulative bastard. <br/>“How interesting”, Lucretia said, her eyes twinkling. “Maybe I was wrong…”</p>
<p>“What are you talking about?”, Hermione asked nonplussed. </p>
<p>“You are wearing that?”, Lucretia suddenly asked, pointing to her form. What was it with Slyhterins and changing the topic so fast today?<br/>“Yes… I am…”<br/>“Well, we can’t have that”, Lucretia said, jumping up from her bed and walking over to Hermione’s trunk. “Just in case, I am indeed wrong.”, she added under her breath.<br/>“What are you doing?”<br/>“Wear this, believe me.”, Lucretia said, throwing at her a blue dress in sailor style. It was cute but why did Hermione have to change? <br/>“I’ll just…”, Hermione gestured to the bathroom, still a bit taken aback by the whole exchange. <br/>“Yes, just go ahead.”, Lucretia said dismissively like this hadn’t been her idea all along. </p>
<p>Five minutes after five o’clock Hermione finally came into the common room. Lucretia had made her wear fitting shoes and even if they were beautiful Hermione had definitely worn shoes that had been more comfortable. </p>
<p>Tom was leaning against the piano, fiddling with his ring. It made Hermione feel slightly sick when looking at it. A part of Tom was living in that… thing… It was an unhinging thought.</p>
<p>”You are late”, Tom said not paying attention to the other students in the room. They didn’t notice the exchange, too immersed in their own conversations. He turned around, finally looking at her, his gaze roving over her body. When his eyes finally returned, he looked hungry and Hermione involuntarily took a step back. Tom smirked, a predatory gleam in his eyes. Suddenly warmth rushed through Hermione and nervousness made her hands shake a little.</p>
<p>“Shall we?”, he asked, offering his arm that Hermione only took after hesitating for far too long. She was so unsure as to what exactly was happening and if there was one thing that Hermione Granger didn’t like, it was not knowing. </p>
<p>“You look beautiful as always”, Tom remarked as they left the common room, silence enveloping them. The hallways were deserted, the walls cold and grey. <br/>“Don’t be stupid.”, Hermione answered. Tom seemed taken aback. She watched emotions flitter through his eyes. He glanced at her. She looked away, feeling hot again. <br/>“Why am I being stupid?”, he asked, tone truly curios. <br/>“What is the reason behind this, Tom? I know it is not because of the weather.”<br/>Tom seemed to be uncomfortable again. It was weird seeing Tom being uncomfortable about anything. He was always so smooth, nothing could bring him out of balance. Or so she had thought. His thumb graced the ring on his finger again, smoothing over the dark stone. He was walking very closely to her, Hermione thought. A little too close to be strictly polite. </p>
<p>“I think… I overstepped a line with… well, using Legilimens”, he finally managed to say, his voice strained. <br/>“So the best course of action was to blackmail me with what you had seen?”, Hermione asked nonplussed. <br/>“Well, no but… I didn’t see much, it was just the things in the forefront of your mind. I have to admit that you memories didn’t explain anything. I saw a lot of dead people and saw your pain at their death but I didn’t catch any names. I saw the two friends of yours and you camping?”, he added a bit confused. He seemed genuine. Relief swept through Hermione. “I saw you somewhere with some woman over you and pain, a lot of pain.”, he trailed off, his brow furrowing, his dark eyes glinting in an emotion that Hermione couldn’t name, or at least couldn’t be bothered to look at more closely.</p>
<p>No names… no names… Harry was safe… </p>
<p>“Who was that woman?”, he suddenly said. Out of all things, he asked this?<br/>“Bellatrix, she thought I stole something out of her vault in Gringotts.”, Hermione answered.<br/>“Did you?”, Tom asked, curious, a small smile playing his lips, although his eyes were still unnaturally dark.<br/>“Well I did afterwards. It seemed like it was important to her.”, she said with a no nonsense tone. Tom looked at her, his eyes twinkling. <br/>“You broke into Gringotts?”<br/>“Yes, it wasn’t as hard as people always make it out to be. I was, what, seventeen at the time? And my friends were, too.”</p>
<p>Tom started to laugh. It was a real laugh and it made Hermione feel warm inside. Her heart ached. With a start she realized it wasn’t, for once, because of Harry, Ron or the others. No, it was for Tom. Because Tom had so much potential but life a played him cruelly. Growing up in an orphanage was terrible at the best of times, Hermione didn’t want to know what he had to endure. There had never been any love in his heart. His life had been ruled by hatred, pain and cruelty. It pained her to hear his laugh, so human and so normal when she knew what he would become, when she knew how much his soul was already tainted by the circumstances of his life. </p>
<p>“That, Hermione”, he said after finally stopping to laugh, “was the best thing I have ever heard in my life.”<br/>“Yes, well…”, Hermione trailed off, not sure what to answer.<br/>“Was that the only reason she…”, his jaw clenched, and his hand seemed to reach for her before he let them fall at his sides again. “Why she tortured you?”<br/>“No, not really. She just didn’t like me very much. Well, more like who I am.”, Hermione murmured, looking at the ground. <br/>“What you are?”, Tom asked, looking at her frowning. </p>
<p>Why was Hermione telling him these things? Nothing good would come of this. She shouldn’t be talking to Tom about anything. But something deep inside of her, wanted Tom to understand, for him to realize what he would become and be just as disgusted by it as Hermione was. Hermione didn’t answer Tom and they stood in silence with her trying to avoid his eyes. </p>
<p>“The reason for this trip”, Tom suddenly said, changing the subject and breaking the silence. “I, well, I needed to apologize. Because of the Legilimens stuff. I won’t do it again.”, he said while not looking at Hermione, this time it was him who was avoiding her eyes. His jaw was clenched and the words seemed as if they were dragged out of him by force. <br/>“Well, I find that hard to believe you”, Hermione said hauntingly. As if she would take any for his words as the truth. He had done it once, now she would be more on guard but she wouldn’t past him to try it again. </p>
<p>“I swear on it… I am even prepared… I… Hermione I am even prepared to swear on it. Make an unbreakable vow that I will never use that on you lest you gave me permission.”, Tom grit out and he finally looked at her. His eyes were like a dark stormy sea. They pulled her under a spell and they made her drown in the rushing of her own blood. He looked so deathly pale that Hermione wanted to reach out and touch his marble-like skin to see if he was indeed human. </p>
<p>“What?”, she blurted out.<br/>They came to a halt. Carriages were in front of them. They needed to choose one. No one moved. Hermione watched the Thestrals for a second.</p>
<p>“I will take it. I want to show you that I really am sorry and that I won’t do it again.”, Tom said matter of factly.<br/>“What?”, Hermione repeated, not daring to hope. How could Tom ever be sorry for anything? Voldemort was a coldblooded murderer. <br/>“Hermione, don’t be stupid.”, he said smirking.<br/>“Why would you do that?”, she asked, voice barley above a whisper. What would he get out of that? <br/>He only raised an eyebrow not dignifying her with an answer. <br/>“Prove it”, Hermione said. </p>
<p>He held out his arm, wand ready. She grasped it, her skin burning from the contact. His hands were just as pale as the skin of his face as he in turn grasped her arm, his fingers digging into her skin. His hands were lined with blue veins that shone through the thin protecting layer. They looked so… human… they looked like Harry’s hand, like Ron’s hand but much more elegant. His fingers were long and straight not crooked and short or constantly covered in food grease like Ron’s had been. <br/>“Do you, Tom Riddle, promise to not invade my mind with Legilimens ever again without my permission?”, her voice was trembling. <br/>“Yes, I do.”, Tom said, his voice steady and without any doubt behind them.</p>
<p>White lines appeared out of thin air that slung themselves around their arms, manifesting the vow. For a few seconds they were linked, they were bound together. She felt his magic rushing through her and in nearly brought her to her knees. The sheer power and darkness of him was overwhelming.<br/>Then the lines disappeared, leaving behind a heavy silence. No one moved. When Hermione finally glanced up, Tom was already looking at her, his eyes dark and full of… something. </p>
<p>“Do you believe me now, Hermione?”, he whispered. <br/>“Yes, Tom, thank you.”, she said, purely because she felt like it was the right thing to say. “You don’t know how much that means to me…”, she added. <br/>She will never betray Harry, she thought with a great sense of relief. Voldemort wouldn’t know more than he did in this moment, which wasn’t much. They were safe. She had done everything she could from the past. She wasn’t completely useless.</p>
<p>Tom only nodded. Their hands were still grasping each other. Slowly he let her arm slip away, his thumb trailing over her skin, leaving behind a burning sensation. He didn’t let go of her hand, however. Hermione felt numb and on fire at the same time. </p>
<p>“Can you see them?”, he asked in whisper after a beat of silence.<br/>Hermione only nodded again. Of course she could see the Thestrals. She had seen enough death to last a few lifetimes. <br/>“Me too”, he said, still holding her hand lightly which made her more confused than ever. Especially because she didn’t let go either. <br/>“Come”</p>
<p>Only in the carriage did he let go of her hand.<br/>The weather really was good for October, Hermione begrudgingly admitted. The sun shone down on the both of them and Hermione paused several times along the way just to stand with closed eyes and to let the sunshine warm her skin. It had been too long. </p>
<p>Tom didn’t try to take her hand again and Hermione was glad. She wasn’t sure what she made of the short time that he had held it in his much larger one. She did not know what to make of that she had liked it. </p>
<p>They strolled through the streets, chatting lightly. It was absurd. She was chatting with Voldemort. No, she realized, not Voldemort but Tom. She had started to think of them as two people. It was hard not to. Tom was… Tom. Sure Voldemort was there. Tom had no regard for other humans. They had never shown him anything like mercy, so why should he? </p>
<p>He was brilliant, the best wizard that Britain had maybe ever seen. But talking to Tom, it made Hermione think, it made her think that even the worst of the worst once started as just a boy with no one to love him. It made her heart clench for the dark haired boy next to her.</p>
<p>Of course, he bought her a dark chocolate bar for her. It had become some kind of ritual between them, an inside joke. <br/>Together they decided to sit outside the village, away from prying eyes and eat in silence, sharing the dark sweet indulgence. The sun was so warm, it made the chocolate melt in her hands. It made everything sticky but Hermione didn’t particularly care. Tom frowned, feeling obviously uncomfortable with his now dirty hands. Hermione laughed at him. Of course Tom was a neat freak. </p>
<p>The grass beneath their fingers was soft and green. She leant back, her head resting against the cold ground. She hadn’t felt this relaxed in over a year and of all the people it was with Tom. Why was she so strange?</p>
<p>“I haven’t had chocolate for such a long time before coming here.”, she said in a low tone, her lips smiling slightly.<br/>“Well, you are still really thin… I imagine they don’t feed their students that well anymore in the future.”, Tom said, his tone unreadable. But it was obvious that neither he nor she believed that he really thought Hogwarts’ negligence was to blame for her gaunt look. </p>
<p>“We seldom had food.”, she whispered. “We were constantly running. We didn’t have time to think about food when we were being hunted, not when we were captured and not when we finally broke free…”, she said but Tom didn’t answer.</p>
<p>His hand found hers again. It was barley touching her hand. It could have been unintentional but with Tom nothing ever was unintentional. She didn’t know what she was doing but she didn’t want to stop. Even if this man next to her was to become Voldemort. </p>
<p>Hermione couldn’t deny that it was Tom who made the best partner for conversation. His insight in all magical things was fascinating. She could argue with him for hours or discuss any given topic without getting bored. She remembered Ron, they never could hold a conversation for longer than a few minutes. He always wanted to talk about Quidditch, she wanted to talk about anything else. But with Tom it was different. He matched her in every aspect, in intellect, in curiosity and in the need to understand and learn things. It was wonderful. With him she felt understood and valued not looked down at because she was a know-it-all. </p>
<p>The last few months she had had these episodes. She knew they weren’t normal just as her nightmares weren’t normal. She only had to see something that resembles something from the war and she would fall into a rabbit hole of despair, pain and agony. One time it had been a first year with hair like Harry, once it had been someone pulling their wand too fast and one time it had been Lucretia in the middle of the night when Hermione had returned from a bathroom trip. The girl had stood outside the room, whether it was to check up on Hermione (who had had another vicious nightmare) or to use it herself, she didn’t know. </p>
<p>Hermione just remembered that she had opened the door and had seen the woman in front of her. Bellatrix her mind had screamed at her, they have found me. She had screamed like a mad woman, her arm throbbing, Mudblood, Mudblood ringing in her ears. She remembered falling in her haste to scramble back, her wand pointed at the other girl’s face. She remembered Lucretia’s fear filled face. That had positively not been a normal reaction on Hermione’s part. The next day, Lucretia had avoided her a bit, even after Hermione had apologized. </p>
<p>Then there had been times that it had been the complete opposite of her over-the-top reactions. When she felt detached from herself, when she felt like another person and she herself was only watching. Somehow this was even worse than the fear and pain. It made her feel so detached and so unhuman. PTSD… That was what it was. Hermione wished she could just look up how to self-medicate PTSD. </p>
<p>However, with Tom it was different. He made her feel like herself like no one else did. Whether it was because he made her infuriated and made her want to argue or because he made her hold her breath and heat coil low in her belly. He made her care again, when she was around him, she didn’t feel hollow anymore.</p>
<p>She was aware of the hand that was touching hers with a burning intensity, his fingers felt cold to the touch and made Goosebumps erupt along her arm and her breath come irregularly. She turned her head to face Tom and he mirrored her movements. None of them said anything. The gazed at each other, his eyes so impossible dark but so full of something… His hand twitched and Hermione thought she would explode, her body was on fire. She just wanted to do something to break this silence that hat settled over them but at the same time she wished it would never end. Every second their gazes stayed on each other felt like a nail to her coffin. Every second was irrevocable, every second was too long but not enough at the same time. They would not be able to come back from this. She couldn’t look away. His face was stony; his long neck just as pale as the rest of him. Hermione’s gazes finally broke away but just to flicker down to his mouth. Red lips standing in stark contrast to his pale complexion… Hermione’s heart pounded. </p>
<p>“Tom”, she whispered, her voice a touch too desperate for her liking. She didn’t know what she was doing but she felt so alive, she felt so safe and that with Tom out of all people.<br/>His gaze, if possible, became even darker at her whisper, it was downright hungry and predatory. His muscles seemed to tense all over his body. His jaw clenched. </p>
<p>“Hermione”, he said back, his voice raw. It was too much. Hermione couldn’t take it anymore. Throwing caution in the wind and just not caring anymore, she surged forward just to be caught by Tom’s lightning reflexes. </p>
<p>He caught her, she had trusted him to. He kissed her back when their lips finally touched in a frantic search of each other. She was on top of him, she felt him finally, all of him. She had wanted this so much and now everything faded into the background, the only thing she could feel were Tom’s hand and his lips moving against her. His scent surrounded her and made everything feel warm and safe, his hands went down her back and up again.</p>
<p>Tom’s breath hitched with every new place of skin he was able touch and he pressed further into her with an astonishing urgency. Suddenly, with one fluid motion, he flipped them. Her back was pressed against the cold ground, grass tickling her exposed flesh. She couldn’t care less. His mouth descended on hers again. He kissed her neck and she arched to give him more access, desperate to feel hiss lips on her flushed body, to feel his teeth scraping over her skin. </p>
<p>She opened her eyes, gripped by the desire to see him, to see that she really had an influence over Tom. To see that she affected him just as much as he did her. Tom’s hair was in disarray, falling into his face, his face was flushed and his eyes… his eyes were full of primal hunger, hunger for her. It made Hermione gasp. The feeling of having that power over him, that she was the one to make him lose control, made exhilaration pound through her body. She was the only one that got under his skin, was able to break through his stone, smooth and cold exterior. What she herself had already given up for that, she didn’t want to consider. </p>
<p>His hands went over the curves of her body again and again, leaving a trail of fire behind them. He let them trail over her thighs, up the inside of her thighs, making Hermione shiver with the pleasure his touch elicited. </p>
<p>They kissed like that for what seemed like hours. Hermione didn’t want to stop, no she wanted Tom. She wanted him so much it hurt. She shouldn’t want him like that, she really shouldn’t. He will kill Harry’s parents. What would her best friends say if he saw her now? Besides, this was the ninety-forties, it was hardly acceptable for her to even be kissing a boy. Did she care? No, she definitely didn’t. But she had to stop, didn’t she? This was unacceptable, he was the darkest and most evil wizard to ever exist. Flashes of a snake like face went through her mind, making her freeze in fear.</p>
<p>Tom trailed kisses down her neck and collarbones, his hand clutched her waist as if he didn’t want to let her go, as if he had heard her thoughts and wanted to show her just how wrong she was. As if he wanted to show her that he wanted this and that he wasn’t the Voldemort she knew. </p>
<p>They finally broke away, both their breaths laboured. She knew that her faced must be flushed and her hair resembling a nest. But she didn’t care as Tom descended one more time to kiss her, making her muscles in her belly clench and a jolt of desire run through her whole body.</p>
<p>When he rolled away again, she instantly missed his warmth. It had been so comforting. She wanted to take his hand, she wanted to curl against him and seek comfort in his scent and steady breathing. She wanted… she wanted to not know about the future, she wanted to just be Hermione and him to just be Tom…<br/>Reality slowly bled into the moment. Tears pricked her eyes. He wasn’t just Tom, he was to become Voldemort, and he had already killed people. He had killed his parents and he had killed Myrtle, he was a murderer. </p>
<p>“We should head back.”, Hermione whispered as she stood up, not even looking at Tom, not daring to look at him. She didn’t check if he was following her, she didn’t even care anymore.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She really wasn’t sure what she had expected. She had definitely not expected to feel guilty and she had not foreseen that everything would return to relative normalcy after… that. Because for her there was no way of returning. It wasn’t the fact that she had kissed someone. </p>
<p>That wouldn’t have changed anything, it hardly counted as a noteworthy incident if it was just anyone. If she were still home, well, in her time, she would have evaluated whether she liked the person and the kiss and then she would have thought about pursuing it further. If nothing would have been there, well, then she would have just left it at that. No harm had been done.</p>
<p>Alas, this was fundamentally different. She wasn’t at home and even if she ignored the fact that it was 1944, which came with a whole set of different problems, it was still a strange situation at best. </p>
<p>Tom Marvolo Riddle, better known as You-know-who or Lord Voldemort, was not by any standards a normal student and that kiss had not been just a fleeting attraction. Well, that wasn’t the best way to put it either, Hermione decided. Because what did she know, Tom had probably forgotten all about her again, it wasn’t as if she were very memorable. Hermione pointedly ignored the sadness that wanted to settle over her heart at those thoughts. She wasn’t fourteen anymore and this wasn’t some silly crush on Ron. </p>
<p>Her kiss with Tom, even if it meant nothing to Tom, was something of importance to her because she had never wanted to even interact with Tom. At first she was thinking about killing him, for Merlin’s sake, even if it had only been for a second or so. She fought kicking and screaming so to say against being anything with Tom. At first, mainly to avoid questions and him finding out about her being from the future. That had evidently not gone over very well. Then again, she wondered, maybe she hadn’t been so against the idea of, well, Tom. From the first seconds she had had an undeniable attraction to the man, boy, student… whatever…</p>
<p>Hermione continued sipping on her tea, while the mornings buzz of breakfast went on around her. She wasn’t hungry, the tea sufficed. No, Hermione was thinking because her mind was the only place that was still normal as it seemed. Her body and heart had taken the first chance at betraying her.</p>
<p>Her gaze drifted to Tom, taking in his pale skin and black hair. He really was extraordinarily handsome and her attraction was unfortunately undeniable. Was she as stupid as all the Professors and other students and had fallen for his charming demeanour? He put up a good front, he was skilled at lying… It made her wondered if she was blinded by her own desire and didn’t see any signs. Maybe she was just a means to an end, just someone to charm to reach something else. </p>
<p>However it may be, Hermione decided once again, it was undeniable that she had to have deep rooted feelings and attraction to overcome the fact that Tom was in fact Voldemort, that he had already two Horcruxes, had evidently killed at least twice, probably already had his little death eater gang behind him and that she knew exactly what he was going to do in the next fifty years. It made her shudder, the words Mudblood still ringing in her mind in that high pitched voice of Bellatrix. So where exactly left that Hermione?</p>
<p> What did it say about her that she had… well not fallen in love exactly… with someone who had tortured her best friend, who had killed hundreds of innocents and who had made her lose her parents. The thought about her mother and father pierced her heart like a knife.</p>
<p> She hadn’t thought about them in such a long time. The fact that they were safe and blissfully unaware of anything concerning magic had made her push them to the back of her mind because there had been more pressing matters to attend to but she did miss them fiercely. </p>
<p>Suddenly Hermione realized that she had been looking at Tom way too long. She averted her eyes just to catch somebody else’s. Raymond Nott, Hermione remembered, he was another Slytherin seventh year with dark hair like Toms but startlingly green eyes. He was, Hermione noted, just as handsome. Still, her heart didn’t sputter out of rhythm when looking at the other boy like it did when Tom was around. So, she concluded, it wasn’t just her hormones that were making her see and feel things. No, it was pretty much the opposite. She was still suffering inside, her brain was still working through all the things she had seen so actually things like boys and… she swallowed hard at that thought… love should be the farthest thing from her mind. </p>
<p>Besides this was Tom. Her mind threw his name around trying to see whether he elicited the same response that Voldemort it. It didn’t, not in the slightest. It was quite the opposite. </p>
<p>Where did that leave Hermione?</p>
<p>Breakfast was a short event for her, she really didn’t want to linger at the Slytherin table, and the condescending gazes she usually received were too much for her already wounded nerves. It wasn’t as if anybody would miss her, even if Lucretia raised one single eyebrow.</p>
<p>Hogwarts in the early morning was something… well for lack of a better word… magical. </p>
<p>The dew still clinging to grass and trees, the red sun only just peeking over the horizon made stillness of the morning even more enjoyable. Hermione loved to be alone, the silence and peace that took hold of her body when she gazed out a window over the vast expanse that were Hogwarts’ gardens. Usually it was the time she sorted her thoughts, where she could work on everything that had happened. </p>
<p>Harry, Ron and the others were not dead, she kept telling herself and strangely it was helping.</p>
<p> She didn’t know what will happen to them but if she was stuck, she would help them as much as possible. The war was over, she was not in danger, and all her enemies were not even born yet… But still, those thoughts seldom helped to calm her. Her fear had nothing to do with rationality, it was a part of her heart and soul, had anchored itself into her very being and would probably never go away.</p>
<p>These thoughts went through her mind while gazing out a window in one of the lesser used parts in Hogwarts. She still had half an hour to first class. </p>
<p>That was when she saw it. A man, probably a student, a Slytherin, Hermione realized while squinting her eyes and seeing the light being reflected greenly, was standing outside in the grass. An owl, grey and black, landed on his arm. Who was that? Hermione leaned further into the window, pressing her nose against the cold glass, to see better. The boy seemed familiar. He had hair like Tom but was definitely not Tom. Raymond Nott? She had left so early that she couldn’t say if the boy had left earlier than most, too.</p>
<p>Whoever he was, he seemed to fumble with something until finally the owl took flight again.</p>
<p> He had received a letter. Hermione’s mind flashed to fourth year when Harry used to receive letters the same way. This was something secret. Every hair on Hermione’s body stood to attention. What could it possible mean? Who was the sender? Had it to do with Voldemort? With Grindelwald?  Grindelwald… He must be at the pinnacle of his power around this time. </p>
<p>Or maybe Hermione was just paranoid.</p>
<p> After spending seven years with Harry who had seen a plot to kill him and take over the wizarding world in every corner (and who always had been right) one ought to become a bit suspicious. Especially after joining the Order it had been secrets over secrets, it had been eavesdropping, spying, deceiving and communicating without anybody knowing about it. Hermione mulled this over while Nott was just standing there, looking at the letter he had received. </p>
<p>Suddenly Hermione jumped from her seat at her window. She was truly being stupid but she didn’t care one bit. Too often Harry’s suspicions had turned out to be true, too often had Hermione been right in her doubt, she could not and would not ignore this. </p>
<p>Sprinting down the corridor she skidded around the corner, nearly losing her balance, her hair flying behind her. Last minute she slowed and put a neutral mask on her face, even if she probably was a bit flushed and breathing hard.</p>
<p>“Oh”, she exclaimed (she really ought to receive an Oscar in her oppinion) as she nearly bumped into Nott. </p>
<p>The boy in front of her was still reading the letter, it was a small yellow parchment and it was already crumpled. Hermione had learned a lot from her time in a war. Whatever the letter contained it had triggered an emotional response from Raymond Nott, otherwise he would not have gripped it as tight as he must have to crumple it. It wasn’t even a second in which she picked up on that detail but it was enough. The expression on his face, while he wasn’t aware of Hermione and thinking that he was completely alone, and therefore unguarded, was concentrated and oddly concerned but at the same time angered.</p>
<p>Nott easily sidestepped her, his green eyes flashing dangerously. </p>
<p>“Granger, was it”, he growled out. </p>
<p>“Oh, you remembered my name, how nice. Roland, was it?”, Hermione said innocently with a smile on her face. </p>
<p>“Raymond Nott”, her hissed, before turning and leaving, his robes bellowing behind him. That, Hermione decided smiling to herself, was definitely not normal Nott behaviour. </p>
<p>It could still be nothing but it wasn’t something Hermione would forget, she stored it in the back of her mind until she had further information. </p>
<p>Tom didn’t talk or even so much as looked at her during the whole day and it was excruciating. The worst part was that Hermione didn’t even get the feeling that he was avoiding her, it felt as if he simply didn’t care, like she was just another student. That hurt more than Hermione wanted to acknowledge even in the privacy of her own mind. No, because that would be whole new set of problems and to be honest Hermione had enough of those already. </p>
<p>She had a small talk with Dumbledore but left his office more frustrated than anything. The only thing he had said was that the chances were slim.<br/>It was already five o’clock when she angrily stood in her own room, while Lucretia was looking at her oddly before finally caving and asking: </p>
<p>“Are you alright Hermione? You seem agitated?”<br/>Hermione marvelled once more at how much Lucretia resembled Bellatrix. Her hands were twitching again but it had gotten better. Lucretia did not have that crazy glint in her eyes.</p>
<p>“Yes, just… restless… I guess. That stupid Slug dinner is grating on my nerves.”, Hermione answered waving her hand in a gesture that should have been nonchalant.<br/>“Well, it is a good place to look for connections, Hermione. I have a feeling that you don’t want a future being married to someone and living in a manor. So you should not dismiss it.”, Lucretia said, her eyes glinting in the dim light.</p>
<p>“Well, you don’t look like that kind of witch, too.”</p>
<p>“I do not have a choice in that matter. I have been betrothed since I was ten years old. As soon as I am finished with Hogwarts I will take the name of my husband and move into his estate.”</p>
<p>Hermione gaped at her but didn’t say anything. She guessed it made sense. She knew that even in her time most of the purebloods were forced to marry. <br/>“I’ll just… go get ready…”, Hermione said awkwardly. She was sure the other woman could not do anything with her pity or with any words at all Hermione had to say to that matter. </p>
<p>Not answering, Lucretia returned to her book.</p>
<p>Hermione walked over to her trunk, frowning at it. She would have to charm her hair and choose something appropriate. Mulling it over, she started to pull out dresses, skirts and robes. She hated herself for it but she wanted to look her best. It wasn’t as if that would make any difference but it felt like she had to face so much and so many people that did not want her there that she needed to at least have an impenetrable front. It would make her feel better at least. </p>
<p>Pulling out an emerald green dress, she smiled to herself. That would do just fine. In the privacy of the bathroom she slipped out of her everyday clothes save for her knickers. She caught a glance of herself in the mirror, her ugly scar glaring back at her. She tried to ignore it.</p>
<p>Forties-fashion was a bit more complicated than her nighties jeans and shirt but she had to admit that it made her look more feminine and probably more desirable as a consequence. </p>
<p>She slipped on her stockings and dress, her hair falling into her face while she concentrated on not ripping anything. The dress was made of a satin like material and it hugged her every curve beautifully. It made her décolleté look stunning, the way it stretched over her cleavage, revealing, but not too much to be inappropriate. It exposed just the right amount. It looked a lot like a Marilyn Monroe dress, Hermione noted. In 1944 the muggle superstar would only have started her career. </p>
<p>After fixing her face and hair and putting a very powerful glamour on her scar, Hermione nearly laughed at the person that was staring back at her in the mirror. She nearly didn’t recognize herself, it was astonishing. </p>
<p>Her lips seemed fuller, her eyes darker and wider, the dress made her look stunning and her cheeks were dusted by a pale pink. She looked unblemished, no scars and no visible indicator of what she had gone through during the last years. If it weren’t for the detached and empty gaze of her eyes, she would not have seen herself in the reflection. She looked way too normal. She looked like she did before the war and before food had become a minor inconvenience and before she had to watch her friends being tortured and before she had had things done to herself. </p>
<p>She could still feel the pain. Mudblood, Mudblood. She nearly felt uncomfortable with herself. It was as if she was ashamed for what she had gone through in the last years even though she was anything but. She was proud for what she had fought, for whom she had fought and that she had come out on top in the end. She had prevailed, she had faced down all those purebloods, those dark wizards and she had made them wish to never have been born. She now faced a similar situation. All those around her were the predecessors of those she would come to fight. She would be strong once more, she would hold…  </p>
<p>“Very nice”, Lucretia commented and Hermione smiled warmly at the compliment. Coming from a witch of The Most Noble House of Black it sure was the best compliment a witch could receive. </p>
<p>“Is Tom fetching you again?”, the girl asked, but her tone was a little too nonchalant. Hermione busied herself with her Slytherin-green shoes. <br/>“I am not sure, I don’t believe so, after all, I already know the way so there would be no need.”, Hermione said.</p>
<p>It was still way too early for leaving for the Club, Hermione noticed but she didn’t want to linger in her room if Tom decided to actually show up. She could not face him so soon.</p>
<p>“Besides”, she continued “I still have something to do, so I am off a little early”, with that and a smile she walked out the door, hoping to not see Tom on her way through the common room. It seemed that she was lucky, no one, except for a few first or second years were up and about. Hermione held her chin high as she silently walked through the room and as she felt the eyes of the children following her. Her hair bounced with every step and her dress whispered against her thigh.It made her think of Tom and his hands.</p>
<p>It was five minutes after the Slug Club had started that Hermione stood in front of the door, her hand raised to knock. She had deliberately come a little later. After all, that was how one made an entrance and Hermione was feeling a little extra at the moment. </p>
<p>She knocked on the dark wooden door, her hand curled into a fist but steady. It didn’t take long for it to swing open, revealing Professor Slughorn.</p>
<p>“Oh, Miss Granger, delightful that you could make it, we were worried you wouldn’t come.”</p>
<p>The rosy cheeks of the man indicated that he had already started drinking, his gaze was slightly unfocused. </p>
<p>“I wouldn’t miss it for the world”, Hermione answered, her voice sounding more sure than she felt. She sidestepped her Professor, letting her gaze sweep through the room. Her heels made a clicking sound against the stone floor. The same men as last time were seated around the round table with the addition of Abraxas Malfoy. Hermione studied them all before drawling in her most bored tone: “Gentlemen.”</p>
<p>As if they were one person, they all stood, their chairs scraping against the floor. With as much dignity as Hermione could muster, she pulled out her chair and sat, the others following suit. </p>
<p>“I am sorry to have kept you waiting.”, She said, not really meaning it, on the inside she braced herself against the suspicious and out right hostile gazes from the men at the table. She didn’t glance in Tom’s direction, not wanting to see the same expression on his face. Hate and condescension she could handle but not indifference from, especially not from Tom.</p>
<p>“We thought you might not have wanted to come.”, one of the students said. Hermione recognized him. What was his name? Edger, she remembered. He looked a bit like she always imagined Frankenstein’s monster to look. Mismatched and ugly.</p>
<p>“Oh and why would I not?”, Hermione asked innocently. They started to eat. The sound of clicking cutlery was heard around the room. Edger looked at her, his face filled with open disdain. </p>
<p>“You know, “, he said, ignoring her question. “I was curious, I haven’t heard your name before. So I asked my father and he hasn’t either. Which is most peculiar because he knows every pureblood family there is.”, after a small pause Edger continued, grinning like a child before Christmas. He looked triumphant, like he was about to reveal something that would destroy her. She only smirked. “And he knows every half-blood family of reputation. That leaves the question as to who you are.”, he finished, looking incredibly smug. The whole table was deathly silent. Hermione levelled her stare on Edger, absolutely unfazed.</p>
<p>“Well, seems to me, your father has a very interesting hobby if he knows all the pureblood families there are. Then again, there aren’t that many are there? Not since pureblood has become a synonym for incest.”</p>
<p>It was as if the whole room had frozen. </p>
<p>“I think I am glad that my aunt isn’t also my grandmother.”</p>
<p>Edger’s whole face went red and pure hatred flashed through his eyes. He surly would have screamed at her or done something worse but surprisingly it was Tom who cut him off.</p>
<p>“I think that is enough, Edger.”, his voice wasn’t loud or forceful, but it took hold of the whole room, as if everyone was magically bound by his words. It made Hermione shiver, it made her hand twitch. </p>
<p>“Yes, of course”, Slughorn said, chuckling “Quiet right, my boy. How is your father doing, my dear boy…”</p>
<p>The conversation changed instantly and as did the mood of the room, even if nobody tried to engage Hermione in any conversations. But she was quiet comfortable with that. Once she gazed at Nott, who was seated beside her, just to find him already studying him. He raised one eyebrow and smirked at her. Which she didn’t return, she just tried to let the evening wash over her and fill the emptiness of her heart.</p>
<p>~</p>
<p>“On Halloween we will have a ball.”, Lucretia said to Hermione during breakfast the next day. Hermione ripped her eyes away from the book in front of her and put her cup of tea away. “Just in case you weren’t aware that it was a tradition.”</p>
<p>“I wasn’t, thank you.”, Hermione smiled at the woman.</p>
<p>“Every year it is the same.”, Lucretia continued. “It is all about who gets asked and who doesn’t. It is kind of social suicide if you don’t get asked.”</p>
<p>Hermione laughed. “Well, I would not want to go with anyone, believe me. It is not like I have a big social life that I would kill, if I went alone.”</p>
<p>Lucretia studied her a bit, before smiling. “I think, if anyone could pull it off, it would be you. I have a feeling that most of the student population is more lax towards you. They accept things from you, they wouldn’t with other people.”</p>
<p>“Because they know that I don’t give a…”, Hermione just caught herself on time. Maybe saying fuck on the breakfast table wasn’t the best idea. “Damn…”, she ended lamely. Lucretia didn’t comment. </p>
<p>“You know”, she continued after a few beats of silence. Hermione was a bit weirded out. She hadn’t talked so much with the other female student so much in the last month combined. “That is kind of what I saw in you. You seem so different. I could never imagine you in an arranged marriage. I could never imagine, you backing down for that matter.”<br/>Hermione laughed. “That is a very nice thing to say”, she smiled warmly at Lucretia. </p>
<p>“Maybe Tom will ask you”, Lucretia continued. Hermione flinched, her tea nearly spilling over. </p>
<p>“Oh, I doubt it.”<br/>“Oh, do tell”, Lucretia said, with a hint of interest in her voice.<br/>“It is complicated.”<br/>“It usually is”</p>
<p>“Yes, well, this is very different. I… there are some things that I can’t change and some things that I did not want to let happen. And then there some things, well Tom to be precise, that I can’t change and I am not under the illusion that I can.”</p>
<p>Lucretia only nodded, as if she understood.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tom didn’t leave her mind for the next week, he was like an itch that she couldn’t and shouldn’t scratch. She felt utterly stupid about it.</p>
<p>This was Tom Marvolo Riddle. Nothing he did or said for that matter was to be taken as the truth. He was the most talented liar to ever exist. He was ruthless, he was vicious, he was cruel and… he was also just a boy, Hermione often caught herself thinking with a sad smile. He was a broken human being with the potential to hurt so many. He had been confronted with the evils of the human nature too often for him to be compassionate, he had never seen someone being compassionate. Where would he have learned to be?</p>
<p>But maybe he was just as unfeeling as the Voldemort Hermione knew in her time, maybe he was using her and had tricked her like all the others in the school. He knew her secret, maybe he believed her to be an asset to his cause. But why not intimidate her into it? That was his usual method securing loyalty with those that were his age. Maybe he believed her too unstable and volatile for something like that. </p>
<p>Hermione remembered how his face had closed down and had become stone cold on their way back to Hogwarts. </p>
<p>He hadn’t said anything until they had reached the common room and he had walked away with air of cruelty and nonchalance around him. </p>
<p>And it made her heart clench terribly because her mind whispered that she had broken what little trust they had between them, the thin thread that had existed and had connected them. But what was she supposed to do? When reality had bled into their moment she wasn’t able to look at Tom anymore. Harry had suffered so much because of him, everyone had. Wasn’t this the worst kind of betrayal?</p>
<p>The girls dormitory was suffocatingly quiet, only the faint snores of the other girls cut through the thickness of the surrounding darkness. It made breathing hard for Hermione as she gazed into the black room, basically blind. </p>
<p>Not even shapes could be made out. Panic gripped Hermione. Sweat broke out over her skin, covering her and chilling her to the bone. It was like an endless spiral into despair.</p>
<p>With jerky movements she threw away her cover and fumbled for her wand. The familiar wood was warm against her skin and made a wave of relief wash through her. </p>
<p>Silently, as not to wake the others, she bravely strode through the room even if her mind supplied all kinds of horror scenarios in her head. Bellatrix was waiting for her, wand ready, craziness in her eyes, Greyback grinning at her with blood dripping from his long teeth… It made her muscles tense and the air around her crackle with magic. </p>
<p>The common room looked like it always did, only a dim light threw long shadows over the warm floor. Quickly Hermione cast a silencing charm and a small Lumos. She couldn’t stand the darkness anymore. </p>
<p>Sitting down at the piano, she started to play a soft tune and slowly the tension left her body, the panic draining away. She played and played, her mind rolling images of Tom around in her head. It had seemed so real, his touches had seemed so desperate, his kisses, even when precise, had seemed so full of passion.</p>
<p>She played her full repertoire, Bach, Beethoven, Mozart… She played and played until her mind finally let the imagines of Tom go and was only filled with music anymore. It made everything fade away. It was a moment of peace in Hermione’s horrible, no good life.</p>
<p> The peace that had taken a hold of her was soon broken.</p>
<p>“What ever”, a male voice drawled, Hermione instantly recognized it. Her fingers faltered slightly as she played the last notes, “are you doing?”</p>
<p>Hermione shivered at Tom’s voice, her heart giving a squeeze. Why did he always have to be where she was?<br/>His tone was devoid of any emotion and for a second her mind flashed to the final battle, Voldemort’s gaze on her. “The golden Mudblood”, cruel, red eyes had stared at her. Never had she seen a gaze so devoid of a soul. </p>
<p>“Tom”, she said, instantly ceasing to play but letting her finger rest on the white keys. Her finger hurt, her mind was calm. Her heart beat loudly and irregularly at seeing him. He was bathed in the slightly blue light of her Lumos charm and it made him look ethereal. His black hair like a halo around his face, his eyes black and his skin glinting even paler than usually.</p>
<p>“Five points from Slytherin”, he said and his voice was like little knifes stabbing at her heart.</p>
<p> Had she been right and Tom really was beyond hope? Was he as unfeeling and as cruel as she knew his older version to be?</p>
<p>“What are you doing here?”, she asked, standing from her place by the piano. She didn’t care that her nightgown was a thin, white material and that it just so covered the important parts of her body. Toms gaze flicked down her form, his eyes narrowing at her nearly naked state. But he schooled his featured back into the stone cold expression that she had come to loath. </p>
<p>“I am head boy, I can do whatever I want to do”, he said, his voice carrying his superiority. </p>
<p>“And you think I care if you take housepoints?”, Hermione answered, taking a step towards him, her gaze hard and icy. He seemed a bit taken aback. </p>
<p>“I am sure you don’t.”, he answered. “It is still my duty to ensure that everyone is in their bed.” </p>
<p>“Not yourself, as it seems.”</p>
<p>“No, not myself”, he smirked. </p>
<p>“You weren’t at dinner”, Hermione noted “Off kicking puppies or intimidating some of your minions?”</p>
<p>Tom frowned. He obviously didn’t get Hermione’s albeit weird humour. </p>
<p>“That is none of your concern.”, he said, unsure. “You haven’t answered my question. What are you doing here?”</p>
<p>“Planning world domination.”, Hermione muttered, “I couldn’t sleep”, she finally said with a loud sigh. She leaned against her piano (she had started to regard it as hers) and her nightgown rode up a notch. Tom swallowed, ripping his gaze away from her thigh. He narrowed his eyes. </p>
<p>“Well, I don’t care that you couldn’t sleep”, he said hauntingly. </p>
<p>“Well, I didn’t expect you to. But apparently you think that I was planning the most sinister things while playing the piano. I was trying to clear my mind.”, she said with a small voice, some fight leaving her.</p>
<p>“As I said, I don’t care.”</p>
<p>“You asked, you moron.”, Hermione answered.</p>
<p>Tom however didn’t answer. He couldn’t because she was right. She smiled at him. Anger flashed in his eyes but Hermione didn’t care. She felt the same detachment that had been her constant company the last month. It was as if this was all a dream, if it wasn’t really her doing all those things. She remembered the kiss with Tom and how alive she had felt, how she had finally been herself again.</p>
<p>“I am sorry about the other day, you know.”, Hermione finally whispered. Even if Tom hated her, was using her or didn’t care for her one bit, her heart bled for him in a way that it never had for anyone and she would not let that sit on her. She would never forgive herself for being so stupid. </p>
<p>“There is nothing to be sorry about.”, he said stiffly. Hermione took a few steps in his direction. </p>
<p>“I think there is. You don’t understand me, Tom. I have some problems and sometimes I react to things in a way no one will understand. It is called PTSD, Tom, it means Post-traumatic-stress-disorder. It only has to be a small thing that reminds me of something from before and suddenly all I will feel is pain, despair and I will be so scared. It is nothing personal.” </p>
<p>With that Hermione sighed and walked in the direction of her room. Just as she passed him, his hand grabbed her wrist. </p>
<p>“I…”, Tom said looking at her intently. Hermione let her own gaze settle on him, barely visible in the light. “How is it going with the nightmares?”, he suddenly asked.</p>
<p> Hermione frowned. She was so close to him, her blood was pounding again and her skin was covered in Goosebumps. That, however, could have something to do with the coldness of the air. </p>
<p>“As usual but I am sure you don’t care.”, Hermione said and wanted to rip herself from him. Her try was more half-heartedly than she had intended but Tom only gripped her tighter, seemingly not wanting to let her go.</p>
<p>Their eyes met. His scent was in her nose again, making her heart warm. A feeling of safety at being in his close proximity enveloped her like a blanket and if she weren’t so immersed in the moment she would have laughed at how ironic it was. </p>
<p>She didn’t know who closed the gap between them, she didn’t care because everything that mattered were his lips and that they were finally on her again. </p>
<p>Their kiss was just as hungry and desperate as the first one had been but this time there was a lingering taste of more. This time they weren’t in the middle of a field surrounded by Hogsmeade. No, this time they were completely alone in the middle of suffocating darkness. His hand went into her hair and he gripped at her like a man drowning. His other hand slipped up her thigh until he touched the end of her flimsy nightgown. </p>
<p>Something between a moan and a grown came out of his mouth before he gripped her flesh at her thigh, his fingers digging into her skin painfully but she didn’t mind one bit. She pushed against him in a desperate attempt to get closer. Blood was rushing through her veins, her heart was beating wildly. </p>
<p>Tom started tugging at her hand, heading in the direction of the boy dormitory and Hermione should have protested or at least should have said something. But alas she let him lead her and he unceremoniously pushed her inside a dark room. It must be his room, Hermione noted, before he was on her again and she didn’t have time to think about anything else. </p>
<p>It was pure bliss, his lips dragging against her skin, his hands digging into her exposed flesh and the warmth that radiated from him and seeped into her. She had thought him cold, his pale skin always looking like smooth stone but he was not now. While letting his hands drift over every curve of her body he wasn’t cold, no, not at all. He was a raging fire that threatened to consume Hermione if she wasn’t careful. </p>
<p>She tugged as his hair, making him groan once more, her hands moved to his shirt and started tugging at that until it finally came off. Tom growled into her ear and started to remove her thin nightgown until she was nearly completely bare before him, his gaze flitting over her own skin nearly reverently. It didn’t make her feel vulnerable being exposed like that in front of someone as she always thought it would. It made her feel exhilarated when she saw the burning desire in his eyes. It was like fire that made him forget everything, made him concentrate solely on her and her body. </p>
<p>Pleasure coursed through her at his touch and kisses, every nerve ending was finally alive again and not numb and unfeeling.</p>
<p>Tom’s dark gaze was full of passion as he looked at her. He looked like… he adored her… like this was something to him. Hermione doubted that Voldemort ever had the time to do this… But she wasn’t delusional that this meant anything. Still, Tom made her feel things that she had never even imagined and that only with a brush of his hand, with a kiss to her shoulders or with a dark gaze. </p>
<p>His long fingers trailed down her neck but didn’t stop, they went on and on until he brushed her knickers making her moan in anticipation. She had never felt anything remotely resembling this. With Ron everything had been awkward and more uncomfortable than pleasurable. </p>
<p>Tom didn’t let her dwell on those feelings, though. It was as if he knew her mind had wandered. He growled, making her focus on him again, his fingers digging painfully into her waist. He was holding on to her, she realized, just like he didn’t want her to go, like he wanted to make her stay.</p>
<p>She didn’t know when or how it happened but soon they were both completely without a scrape of clothing. Hermione’s heart beating a wild rhythm, a thin layer of sweat covering her and her mind devoid of anything else that wasn’t Tom, or Tom’s hand brushing against her making her moan in pleasure. </p>
<p>When she finally found her realise it didn’t take long for Tom follow, his head buried in the crook of her neck, his breathing laboured and his body flushed. </p>
<p>His hand didn’t let her go, even when he rolled off her and comfortable silence settled over them. One arm was still slung over her hip, anchoring her possessively. His thumb drew lazy patterns into her skin and a feeling of safety washed over Hermione again, this time she smiled at how ironic it was but instead of leaving, as she should have, and feeling guilty all over again, she put her head on his shoulder, relishing the way that Tom seemed to clutch her only tighter. Nobody said anything as they slowly drifted off to sleep.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was already in the early hours of morning when Hermione started twitching next to Tom. </p>
<p>“Ron, no… NO”, she mumbled, her eyes moving behind her closed eyelids. </p>
<p>She started trashing and moaning and not in the good way she had only a few hours before. Her movements woke Tom, who at first grabbed his wand, panicked that someone was in his room, worse in his bed. But when he saw the lithe girl next to him, her breathing coming out in huffs, her hand clenching in his sheets and her face pinched in pain, he silently put his wand away. Her hair was spread out over his pillow like a dark halo of an angel. </p>
<p>“No please, no…”, Hermione whispered into the room and Tom felt at a loss as to what he could do but at the same time he was strangely affected by her words that seemed to be full of despair. Should he wake her? Should he let her ride it out? An uneasy feeling settled over his heart at watching the small girl in front of him that he dwarfed in size. But somehow she was still so strong, maybe even stronger than he was in some ways. </p>
<p>He didn’t know what had happened in her time but the one time trip into her mind, had him at a loss for words.</p>
<p> It wasn’t the death and the torture he had seen in her mind, no, he didn’t care about those. He had seen them all before and the nameless people bleeding at his feet didn’t elicit anything in him, not even a sense of pleasure and power as it sometimes did with his… followers. </p>
<p>No, there had been so much pain and so much loss that had tainted those memories. Those were feelings he wasn’t unused to but they were like a faraway memory of his youth. He had thought them to be a weakness but he had sensed how they had fuelled her will to live and to fight. It had made her stronger in every sense.</p>
<p>Everything he had seen and felt through her had made his own life that he had always regarded as bad, as a testimony of the wretchedness of humanity and of muggles in particular, seem harmless. He didn’t know how Hermione… he dwelled on her name for a few seconds, relishing in the warm feeling it triggered… could still be so… compassionate.</p>
<p>The things she must have seen must have shown her how every human being was bad to the core. She must know that all the others were good for was being ruled. They shouldn’t have a say in anything, they were the true evil. He was the only one that was above them, he didn’t feel anything when watching those who disobeyed him writhe in pain under him as he had his wand pointed at them. </p>
<p>They were all the same. He didn’t have compassion for them, why should he. Everyone was in their core rotten. He had ascended above that.</p>
<p>Hermione started screaming bloody murder, making him spring into action, every muscle in his body tense and ready to strike. An unwanted feeling of anger toward who ever made his Hermione scream like that, made her voice be so full of pain and anguish.</p>
<p>“Hermione! Hermione!”, he was shaking her awake before he could think, just wanting her to stop, to stop making him feel this helpless because he was never helpless. No, he was Tom, he was Lord Voldemort and he was not helpless. But he desperately wanted her to just wake up, he wanted to see her brown eyes full of warmth again, without the constant shadow of pain clouding them. He wanted to see her happy, he realized with a start. </p>
<p>“Tom?”, Hermione’s eyes were finally open, the brown of  her irises basically black in the dim light. But it wasn’t right at all, they were not free of any unwanted emotion. No, they were filled with unshed tears, they looked like she was on the verge of drowning. He felt so damn helpless again.</p>
<p>“Are you okay?”, he asked, unsure to what he was supposed to say. How could he make her feel better? He really shouldn’t care but he couldn’t rid himself of that suffocating feeling that swirled in his heart while she was looking at him like that.</p>
<p>Hermione smiled lightly. “Bad dream. Sorry, I must have woken you.”</p>
<p>“It is oke.”, he answered. Her smile wasn’t right either. Somehow it was even worse if she just had cried.</p>
<p>She watched him with a guarded expression until she put her hand on his cheek and it seemed like everything that had knotted his stomach just dissolved. He didn’t even care that he held some kind of power over him, no he just wanted more of her, more of her dark eyes gazing up at him in the darkness of the early morning. </p>
<p>It made his heart clench at how much emotions she held in those brown orbs because, he realized with a start, it was directed at him. It was only for him. it should only be for him. He was the only one deserving of her attention.</p>
<p>Her thumb brushed over his cheek and he wanted to stay like that forever, just her touching him, this strange feeling washing over him. He wasn’t sure what it was, but he wanted more of it. It made him feel vulnerable like in a way that she was, too. Suddenly something caught his gaze, horror filling him, pressing on his chest and making it hard to breathe. How had he not seen it? How had he not seen that angry red scar that was… mutilating her arm? How had he not seen it when they were… together? </p>
<p>Like a snake he grabbed her arm, his fingers digging into her skin, his anger at whoever had scared her, who had dared to lay a finger on her, making his vision swim. </p>
<p>“What”, he seethed “is that?”</p>
<p>Maybe if he weren’t so angry, his heart beating wildly in his chest, clenching painfully and if every rational thought had not made place for pure anger, he would have seen the look of pure terror wash over Hermione’s face.</p>
<p>She ripped her arm free, pushing away. The air crackled with magic and she knew, she knew she had to get away. Why hadn’t she thought about her scar? She had been so immersed in her pleasure, in Tom that every other thought had vanished. </p>
<p>The pure anger in Tom’s face made the unshed tears finally fall. Mudblood, Mudblood. She had been wrong about him, oh, she had been wrong. Away, flee her mind screamed, the magic that was pressing down on her was just too much. Flinging herself out of his bed she grabbed her own wand, waving it through the air, covering herself with her clothes. </p>
<p>Without waiting, without looking back, she ran away and out the door. Tears were falling more and more now. If this was the other option to the numbness that had taken over in the last year than she didn’t want it because this was Tom, Lord Voldemort, they were talking about. Of course, he was disgusted with her at being a Mudblood. Of course… he was angry at her for lying to him… for not telling him. She was nothing to him. But he isn’t to you, her mind supplied helpfully, making her cry even harder.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The next morning Hermione woke up feeling groggy and not rested at all. She had only had a few hours of sleep but she had endured worse, so she bravely opened her eyes, welcoming the pain of the bright light. She felt sore, she felt exhausted and she was terribly cold. </p>
<p>The sky beyond the castle walls was a gloomy grey, fitting her mood.</p>
<p>Hermione pulled herself of the warm bed and got to her morning routine with less eagerness than normally but that was to be expected. </p>
<p>She pulled on her school robes, thankful for the warmth they provided. At least she had had so little sleep that she had not dreamt and as a consequence had not been visited by any nightmares. Always look on the bright side of life… Hermione smiled grimly at herself in the mirror.</p>
<p>She rubbed her chest with a frown. Everything hurt. Where was the time she had felt emotionless and detached? </p>
<p>Oh well, she would get through with it. She always did. It wasn’t any worse than obliviating her parents, being tortured, seeing Dobby die, seeing Sirius die, seeing Fred die or seeing Dumbledore lying at the bottom of the Astronomy tower. So much death... Hermione nearly snorted, as if something like that could bring her down. Not after what she had endured. </p>
<p>Lucretia didn’t say anything but Hermione saw her gaze as she watched her. Lucretia must have noticed Hermione’s absence last night.</p>
<p> Maybe she had heard her cry after Hermione returned in the early hours of morning. Suddenly Hermione felt the need to confide in Lucretia, the only other human being that had been her friend so far. She felt like she could trust Lucretia even if she resembled Bellatrix and even if the woman has never been anything resembling cordial towards her.</p>
<p>Stuffing that feeling away, Hermione smiled at the woman and left the room, realizing that she only missed Ginny, who had always been there for her and had listened to her problems.</p>
<p>The common room was still cold and empty, the green colours of the furniture nearly black in the dim light. Hermione rushed through it, her little heel clicking over the stony floor, her mind flashing to the night before. </p>
<p>Tom’s finger grazing her pale skin, his dark hair that had been so soft... Her vision was swimming again. She walked and walked, taking a detour before going to the great hall, not quite ready to face anybody.</p>
<p> The corridors were quiet, peaceful even.</p>
<p>Sometimes she saw places that she, Ron and Harry had been to, had laughed at, just being children for once, and a deep sense of nostalgia swept through her. A deep ache filled her mind, drowning out the rest of her environment. </p>
<p>She didn’t expect anyone to be there, nor did she expect to be suddenly grabbed and dragged into an empty classroom. Fear like ice took hold of her, every fibre of her being was frozen, he voice muffled by a cold hand over her lips. She screamed. She trashed. Magic crackled in the air. Pure panic rushed through and occluded her senses. </p>
<p>“My god, Hermione, stop, will you?”</p>
<p>Hermione landed on the floor, her vision tilted, her breath ragged. The cold of the floor seeped into her hands and forehead. Tom? Tom…</p>
<p>Her wand was in her hands, pointed at Tom, who was looking at her, his gaze dark and cold, but not in the slightest afraid. It raised Hermione’s hackles.</p>
<p> He was obviously underestimating her. Hadn’t she fought Voldemort himself? Even if it had been briefly, hadn’t she fought so many of his esteemed death eaters, obliviating some of them, defeating most of them? Hadn’t she destroyed some of his Horcruxes?</p>
<p>“What is wrong with you”, she gritted out, wand still in her shaking hands. </p>
<p>Her vision was clearing, suddenly everything in sharp focus. She was positively vibrating with withheld magic that was just waiting to pour out of her. </p>
<p>“What was that yesterday? Hermione, I want to know who did that to you”, Tom said as he lazily reached for her, grabbing her arm. </p>
<p>She let him but with great reluctance. </p>
<p>“Yes, I am so very sorry that I defiled you with my Mudblood hands.”, she said ripping her arm away again, trying not to linger on the feel of his fingers grazing along her skin. <br/>Tom looked up sharply, his dark eyes like the night. </p>
<p>“That is what you think of me?”, he said, his tone dripping with venom, his intense stare made her uncomfortable. Like she was in the wrong here. </p>
<p>“I have it on good authority that it is true.”, Hermione muttered, suddenly not so sure anymore. Where was this headed? </p>
<p>“Hermione, I do not care that you aren’t a pureblood. How did you put it? Ah, yes, pureblood has become a synonym with inbred. I found that quiet amusing to be honest.”, he smiled down at her and it made everything in her clench. </p>
<p>She had never seen Tom smile like that. Tom, who was supposed to be an unfeeling thing that didn’t feel compassion, love or loss, only hatred was supposed to fill this man’s heart and body, pure and black hatred. But on the contrary, she saw a crooked smile of a young man full of hope, ambition and maybe… something resembling love… towards her. </p>
<p>It wasn’t the dark and all-consuming possessiveness that Hermione would have expected from Voldemort in his younger years, a love that consumed and killed, that was as black and dark as an infection, slowly spreading through the shared bond and killing it. Of course there always was that edge to Tom, she would never deny it, something most people would not be able to handle but Hermione cherished in it because it didn’t feel like it snuffed out her light or suffocated her. </p>
<p>No, it made her feel so much compassion and love in her heart. She felt like she had enough for the both of them. Every relationship came with compromise, some more than others.</p>
<p>Her heart was pounding painfully, hope was blooming in her like a little blossom in the beginning of spring. It made her quiver. It made her feel so terribly vulnerable. </p>
<p>“You have to understand”, Tom continued “that I do not care for all those other Slytherins. They don’t mean anything to me. Nobody does, Hermione. I wouldn’t blink twice before killing them”</p>
<p>It was the clarity and casualness in which he said killing that made Hermione shiver. He truly didn’t sound like he cared about them. His eyes were unforgiving and so undeniably cold. </p>
<p>“I wouldn’t hesitate to kill them if any of them touched you, if they dared to hurt you. If you don’t tell me, I will torture them all until one of them confesses. Believe me when I say that I couldn’t care less about them. Somebody dared to touch what is mine and they will suffer for it endlessly.”</p>
<p>Dimly Hermione registered the clatter of her wand, falling to the floor. She didn’t care.</p>
<p>Tom’s eyes weren’t cold anymore, they were aflame and they were burning into her very soul and made her burst into flames. Her whole body was trembling as she backed away from his looming form, not afraid but oddly excited, until her fingers touched the cool stone of the wall in her back. He was so close. </p>
<p>The entire world faded away, only Tom remained, the intensity of his dark eyes, the paleness of his skin, the softness of his hair and his hands that landed on the side of her head, effectively caging her in. </p>
<p>“You won’t have any luck with that.”, she whispered, her voice thin. “The person isn’t even born, yet.”</p>
<p>“Then I will wait fifty years to give them the punishment they deserve.”, Tom grit out, before finally crashing his mouth against hers. It was pure bliss, she thought she had lost him and it had hurt so much that she didn’t even care about the potential very violent things that had come out of his mouth. </p>
<p>She would talk to him later, now she just wanted to grip at him and never let him go. His hands were bruising on her body, making her tremble. He growled, his hand in her hair and pulling at it to make her head tilt back. He nipped at her skin, surly leaving marks. </p>
<p>“Mine…”, he kept repeating as if it was a mantra and as if he wasn’t really aware that he was saying it. She gasped. Yes, all coherent thought leaving her mind and soul, only Tom remaining. </p>
<p>Somehow she ended on one of the tables, the cold surface under her suddenly naked back not even being registered in her mind. Only Tom, always Tom… </p>
<p>He was gripping her so tight that it hurt but she didn’t care. She pulled and pulled, wanting him only closer, she couldn’t get enough, until they both found their release, Tom burrowing his head in her in her neck, whispering her name brokenly, while she smoothed out his hair whispering back that she knew, that she understood.</p>
<p>Needless to say, they arrived for breakfast a little late.</p>
<p> Tom was wearing his typical Slytherin-mask, unfeeling, charming but cold. But his hand lay in hers, it was cold, his ring was digging into her skin but she didn’t care, his hand made her feel warm.</p>
<p> She didn’t care that eyes were following her, that most of the Slytherins were without doubt trying to glance their way indiscreetly. Some female students looked enraged, some sneered in their direction, Hermione could only guess what they were thinking. Pureblood witches were instructed to go for power and Tom was oozing power from every pore. They were enraged that she, obviously not a Pureblood, had snatched him. But Hermione didn’t feel any resentment towards them, their upbringing had corrupted them, that was hardly something she could blame them for. </p>
<p>One pair of eyes, however, stayed longer on Hermione and Tom, than all the others. It was Raymond Nott, the boy sat on his place on the table, his jaw clenched. Dark shadows were under his eyes, making him look darker than he already did, his paleness even more pronounced than normally. Hermione locked gazes with him for a few seconds. </p>
<p>Shivers, and not the good kind, swept through her. Raymond’s eyes… his gaze… was off… It reminded Hermione of something, something that was just on the edge of her mind but she couldn’t remember…</p>
<p>“Hermione?”, Tom’s whisper in her ears brought her back to reality, stuffing Raymond Nott’s tired eyes into a corner of her mind for later inspection. </p>
<p>“I want you to wear this”, Tom continued. </p>
<p>“What?”, Hermione answered, not seeing Tom’s finger slipping off his ring.</p>
<p>“When you wear it, everybody will know who you belong to and some of my… friends… know not to touch you…”, he pressed his ring into her hand and as soon as Hermione registered what was digging into her flesh, she jerked back, nearly knocking over her cup of tea.</p>
<p>The liquid sloshed in its confinement. Tom looked startled at her reaction. </p>
<p>“I won’t wear that”, Hermione hissed. Tom looked suspicious, leaning forward until his face was nearly in hers. </p>
<p>“Why, do tell me?”</p>
<p>“I won’t be linked to murder”, Hermione muttered under her breath as she turned away, his dark gaze too much for her to handle but instantly realizing what she had said. She blanched but tried to keep her face from showing it. </p>
<p>“What did you say?”, Tom said in a slow drawl but his spine had stiffened.</p>
<p>“Give me that.”, Hermione said pulling the ring from him and slipping it on. </p>
<p>She wanted to add something but her breath caught. Magic swept through her, warm magic that caressed her skin, made her feel like she was glowing and it felt… distinctively like Tom. It surrounded her, made warmth spread through her bones and made her feel so safe. </p>
<p>Tom, Hermione noted when she finally regained a bit of her ability to think clear, was watching her with an intent gaze. Was this a test? Hermione wondered, what did Horcruxes do exactly to people that weren’t their masters? </p>
<p>In the future Tom’s soul-bits had only done evil things, possessed Ginny, made Hermione, Harry and Ron fight and hate and much more… But they all had touched the Horcruxes with the intention to hurt or in Ginny’s case with at least the mind set of hating Voldemort.</p>
<p> What happened if someone who was close to Tom, who even cared for him, carried his soul around? Hermione liked to believe that she now had her answer. The magic in the ring, the soul, was not attacking her, it had accepted her as its new bearer, had even welcomed her own magic that was so full of her… love… for Tom. </p>
<p>“I will wear you ring Tom”, Hermione said slowly “But I don’t belong to anyone, not even you. Don’t misunderstand the nature of our relationship, I am not beneath you, I am your equal.”, Hermione’s voice was so low that nobody else would be able to hear them. But Tom heard her loud and clear, his eyes flashing with a variety of feelings, disbelief, anger and maybe even acceptance. He would come to see, Hermione decided, it would take some time, but he couldn’t hold on to ridiculous beliefs. </p>
<p>~</p>
<p>The weight of the ring on her finger was equally comforting and strange to Hermione. </p>
<p>She could always feel Tom’s magic sweeping through her when she concentrated, but at the same time she was often startled by the metallic sound it made against the wood of the table or the stone railing while climbing the stairs. But the most dismaying aspect were the stares. Many people recognized the ring on her finger as what it was. Tom staking his claim. Even Slughorn saw it, even if he tried to not act surprised or as if he had seen it. </p>
<p>In the middle of their conversation about the correct use of dragon blood in healing potions, she had brushed her hair to the side, the dark stone in the middle had glinted in the evening sunlight. Slughorn’s gaze had stuck to it, his eyes widening with pure shock. </p>
<p>His word had cut off, disbelief flashing through his eyes, before he finally recovered and his smile had become wider and his eyes had taken on a greedy glint. Hermione had excused herself hastily. She decidedly didn’t need that right now. Slughorn was probably already planning his new favourite couple’s future. </p>
<p>Were they a couple now? Hermione didn’t know and decided that it was unnecessary to dwell on such trivialities. </p>
<p>Daily school-life in the nineteen-forties was not very different to the nineties, Hermione decided. She relished the feeling of walking through the comfortable walls of Hogwarts again, to learn and study again without the imminent threat of Voldemort hanging over her.</p>
<p>Every time she thought about her past or future, how ever one wanted to put it, Hermione stomach clenched. Because no matter how different Tom looked in this time, he was still Voldemort, he was still capable of all these atrocities. Hermione knew, that when it came to it, that if Tom would become Voldemort, she would not choose his side because the moment Tom became that monster, everything she loved about him would be lost.</p>
<p> She would join The Order of the Phoenix and fight, once more, living through another war.</p>
<p> The prospect of more pain and more loss, made Hermione tremble. It was in the middle of the night, when she had those thoughts and realizations for the first time, while she was next to Tom in his bed. His head on her shoulder, his eyes closed and his breath fanning across her naked skin. </p>
<p>His hair looking so soft in the dim light of the moon, his expression so utterly peaceful. Hermione couldn’t go back to sleep anymore, so she held still and listened to silence of the room. She had taken up on just lying next to Tom and to watch him sleep with a sense of wonder when sleep wouldn’t come for her.</p>
<p>While watching him, her heart beating loudly, she realized that there could come a time when she would have to raise her wand against him, where she would have to stand up again. In the last weeks the flashbacks had become less, even if she still had nightmares but she felt as if she was finally beginning to heal.</p>
<p>But that could change, she realized, it could change so fast. Tom could become the Voldemort of her time in an instant and she would not, would never, lose herself so much to stand by his side. She would not be Bellatrix, she would not be a death eater. She would not. No matter how much it hurt, she would fight against him and she would stand against him in every way. </p>
<p>When it came to it, she would not hesitate. This would happen, she thought dimly, if she wasn’t enough, if her love for him, that had formed so tentatively in the last month, wasn’t enough to fill the darkness in his soul. </p>
<p>The ring on her finger, she never put it away, vibrated with Tom’s magic, making her feel safe and cherished, whispering into her mind words that she couldn’t understand but that comforted her none the less. Maybe the constant feel of Tom had something to do with her slow but sure way to a more stable mental health. </p>
<p>Silent tears started to fall over her cheeks. She raised her still trembling hand and grazed Tom’s cheekbones with her fingertips. His skin was cool but smooth, his hair was soft. She pressed a kiss to his forehead, wishing so much that he would not become the monster of her past. </p>
<p>The whole October Hermione spend more nights in Tom’s room than in her own, Lucretia noticed but didn’t say anything. She also saw Tom’s ring on Hermione, but didn’t comment but Hermione saw a glint of concern in her eyes. </p>
<p>The two weeks before the Halloween ball the whole school was in frenzy. Male students bringing up the courage to ask girls to the balls, other girls waiting to be asked, some crying, some students fighting… </p>
<p>On the twenty-fifth Hermione woke with a start, the last tendrils of her nightmare still vivid in her mind. She was clutching Tom’s hand so strongly that the boy had woken up. His eyes were dark in the night but intense in their concern. </p>
<p>“Are you alright, Hermione?”, he whispered into the darkness. Blood rushed through her ears, her heart was pounding. Everything was swimming before her eyes, fear and utter trepidation clinging to her very soul.</p>
<p>She had been at the ministry again, death eater everywhere, they had killed all her friends. Harry had looked at her with so much hate, screaming at her, “How could you leave us.”.</p>
<p>“The death eaters got them”, Hermione whispered, tears already rolling down her face. “I couldn’t fight… I left them…”, Hermione sobbed, slowly realizing that she was in Tom’s bed, that he was clutching her to his chest. </p>
<p>“Don’t worry Hermione, you are safe.”, he whispered back and if Hermione weren’t so distraught, still half in her own nightmare, she would have felt the slight tremble in Tom’s words, the slight detached tone mixed with true horror seeping into his words. Alas, she did not, but cried herself dry on his shoulders while he kept whispering words into her ear.</p>
<p>It took her half an eternity to calm down enough be able to breath normally again. Tom was rubbing patterns into the naked flesh of her skin, whispering sweet nothings into her ear. When she finally let go of his hand and looked into his handsome face, she saw his dark but ice cold face. His Slytherin mask was in place. </p>
<p>“You can go back to sleep”, Hermione said, the darkness of his room pressing on her chest. “I need some more time.”</p>
<p>She slowly peeled away his warm cover, the material always smelled like him and made her feel at home again, before summoning a robe to cover herself. </p>
<p>“I’ll come with you”, was all Tom said, slipping out of bed. Hermione leaned up to kiss him, trying to convey words that had staid unspoken. </p>
<p>Tom’s hand slipped into her hair and gripped her with more desperation than usual it seemed. He rested his forehead against hers, his breath fanning across her face and his eyes closed as if he had to collect himself. His fingers clenched where they were gripping her waist and only slowly did he let her go.</p>
<p>The common room was just as dark and silent as it usually was. Hermione let Tom sit next to her as she played her favourite pieces on the piano, her fingers gliding over the cold keys. She played Für Elise with as much emotion as the first time. Tom closed his eyes as the sweet notes filled the room and leaned his head against her shoulder. When she hit the finally keys, a smile playing around her lips, he looked up and the emotion that she could see in his dark orbs made her head spin. </p>
<p>“Go to the ball with me”, Tom said, his tone quiet. </p>
<p>“Hmmm”, Hermione answered with a real smile on her lips “I am not sure. I have seen what lengths other men go to, to ask girls to the ball. This seems a bit lacking in comparison.”, Hermione smirked at Tom who only raised one eyebrow.</p>
<p>She had a point, some students took ridiculous measures. One proposal was more exaggerated and more awful than the last. All the girls had started to compare how they had been asked and the more expensive, extravagant and, at least in Hermione’s opinion, ridiculous it had been, the prouder the girls seemed.</p>
<p> It was utterly laughable and Hermione would never have considered anyone who dared to make such a scene just to ask her to a stupid ball. She felt like it was an offense or an indignity towards all those who had lived through harder times because a small ball was such a triviality in comparison. She had fought for freedom and peace just so people could do something so stupid. It made her angry, angry with the unfairness of the world. </p>
<p>“I could, of course, get the squid in the dark lake to hold a up a sign, spelling put Be my date to the ball but I believe, Hermione, that you wouldn’t appreciate that very much.”</p>
<p>“Maybe I wouldn’t”, Hermione murmured, leaning up to kiss him again. </p>
<p>They didn’t speak much after that but Tom did carry her back to their room.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>In the week before Halloween the whole castle was transformed and somehow it was even more extravagant and glamourous than in Hermione’s own time.</p>
<p>She wandered through the castle in silent wonder, pumpkins floating around in the corridors, spiders hanging from every corner, their webs a shining silver, skeletons with gleaming white bones were patrolling the castle grounds and the ghost of Hogwarts were even more excited than normally, which says something about the atmosphere in the air.</p>
<p><br/>It hung like a cloud over the whole student body, it was like someone had spiked all their pumpkin juice or had slipped them an excitement-potion. How ever it may be, even Hermione felt the buzz of anticipation whisper against her skin and she felt the same juvenile nervousness over the masquerade ball as all the others.</p>
<p><br/>The girls of Hogwarts, no matter what house or age, were running around Hogsmeade looking to buy the <em>perfect</em> dress and it was the talk of the castle. More accurately it was the <em>only</em> talk of the whole student body and Hermione had a feeling that it was also the topic of most the chats between the female teachers.</p>
<p>No matter where Hermione went, people were talking about the ball or anything that had something to do with it. She heard Ravenclaws discuss the different kinds of materials they were going to wear, she heard Slytherins gossip about how much their costumes cost and how tasteless the Gryffindors were probably going to dress.</p>
<p>Gryffindors were running around asking girls to the ball with the most extravagant gestures Hermione had ever seen. It made her think about Ron and Harry, how they couldn’t muster the courage to ask any girl for that matter.</p>
<p><br/>However, Hermione did not have a dress, which was something she mulled over quite a few times. At first she thought about not going. It was, after all, just a stupid party and Hermione wouldn’t be in Hogwarts for much longer but it soon became clear that this was definitely not an option.</p>
<p>She had to attend and if she had to crawl there. Even Miranda, a sixth year Ravenclaw who had been in the way of an exploding potion and was tinted in a different colour every day of the week and strictly seen was to stay in the hospital wing to make sure she wouldn’t die, would go to the ball.</p>
<p>The girl even had a date, as Hermione overheard. She also heard that Miranda apparently had bought a dress in every colour because she couldn’t know which colour she would be on the big day.</p>
<p><br/>So, Hermione had no chance at faking a headache and not attending. Therefore she, too, would have to go to Hogsmeade to buy a <em>“nice” </em>dress as Slughorn had put it. Hermione did not want to find a <em>nice</em> dress, she felt as if she had had her <em>nice dress</em>-moment at the yule ball. She didn’t want to show up in a frilly purple dress, she didn’t want to wear a ruffled gown with pink bows on it.</p>
<p><br/>Lucretia got asked by a fellow Slytherin, her soon to be, as she explained to Hermione. He seemed like a handsome enough fellow, although Hermione could see that there wasn’t any love lost between the two of them. She didn’t comment on it and Lucretia didn’t elaborate.</p>
<p>Two days before the <em>big day,</em> as most called it, Hermione sat in her dorm, reading as usually.</p>
<p>In the last week she had come to spent most her time with Tom. They went on walks through the gardens of Hogwarts, they sneaked out after curfew to wander into the Forbidden Forest and practised spells and charms that were not in the Hogwarts curriculum but none the less very interesting.</p>
<p>More often than not, they ended up on the cold fall ground, Toms hands burning against her naked flesh and making her forget the crispness of the air around them.</p>
<p>Today tough, Tom was off to do<em> something</em> and she was sitting in silence with Lucretia, who was looking at dresses she kept pulling out of her trunk. The rustling of fabric made a nice background of white noise.</p>
<p><br/>“I believe I will not find anything suitable”, Lucretia suddenly said, breaking their silence. “You know, since you have snatched Tom, someone who had been dubbed unattainable, the stakes have somewhat risen.”, she mused, letting her fingers run over a deep red dress, her eyes looking wistful.</p>
<p><br/>“No, I did not know.”, Hermione smiled into her book.</p>
<p><em>Snatched Tom.</em> As if she wanted this<em> thing</em> with him but she seemed to be unable to stay away. Her heart ached for the boy, the way it had never had for anybody else in her life. She felt the strong urge to give Tom what he had missed in his life, to show him what love meant.</p>
<p><br/>He made her think of Harry, who grew up with only hate and the only man who could have been his family, had to die way too soon.</p>
<p> <br/>“But I wouldn’t say I <em>snatched</em> Tom.”, Hermione continued.</p>
<p><br/>“Oh, but on the contrary, everybody is asking how you did it. Some girls think you slipped him a love potion.”, Lucretia said with a smile of her eyes.</p>
<p><br/>“That is absolutely ridiculous.”, Hermione said thinking of Tom’s mother. How ironic would that be?</p>
<p><br/>Lucretia only hummed, before continuing, her voice more wary than before.</p>
<p><br/>“Well, I am happy for you, Hermione. It is just…”, the black haired woman set the red dress beside and turned to look at Hermione, her gaze serious. “What I said still stands. Don’t get caught up too much in it all. There are some things… that Tom hasn’t told you, I think. I don’t know for sure, I have only heard rumours but it isn’t something that you would want to associate yourself with…”, Lucretia turned away and sighed. “Too bad that I can’t wear red. It is such a lovely colour.”</p>
<p><br/>Hermione chuckled but stored Lucretia’s words away. Lucretia was a Black. She probably knew something about Tom’s plans, about his “Deatheater gang”.</p>
<p>In the last few weeks Hermione had come to meet them all. She knew most of the names from stories that had been told about The First Wizarding War but even if she wouldn’t, they weren’t hard to spot.</p>
<p>They were those who looked at Tom with fear in their eyes, knowing what he was able to do, it were those who flinched when he pulled his wand a bit too fast. It were the students whose eyes followed Tom around and it were the men who looked at her with plain mistrust, hate and utter disdain.</p>
<p><br/>Hermione saw it in their eyes, in the dark glint. Some of the more gruesome ones, who were attracted to Tom because of his disregard for human life and as a consequence his tolerance for cruelty, always gazed at her in a way that made her skin crawl. Especially Edger. It made her think off the snatchers, of Greyback, of Bellatrix and all the others. It were those moments that she would question everything she was doing and who she was doing it with but alas, she could never stay away.</p>
<p><br/>“I loth to admit it but I think I will have to go to Hogsmeade to buy a new dress. How utterly terrible. All the good ones will be gone already… And the good ones were bad to begin with”, Lucretia continued, her tone much lighter but there was an undercurrent of true annoyance.</p>
<p><br/>“I still have to get a dress, too, you know.”, Hermione said over her shoulder, putting the book that she had been reading away. Lucretia looked up from her trunk.</p>
<p><br/>“Truly? Well, we will go together, though I think it will be to no avail.”</p>
<p><br/>“You know…”, Hermione finally turned around so she faced the other woman fully. “We could always go to Diagon Allay. I am sure they have better dresses there.”</p>
<p><br/>“But we aren’t allowed to go. Besides how would we get there.”, Lucretia said, dismissively.</p>
<p><br/>“I can apparate us and we just have to not get caught.”, Hermione smirked.</p>
<p><br/>“Really? You would do that?”</p>
<p><br/>“Sure, apparently a lot of eyes will be on me so I have to look my best, too.”</p>
<p><br/>Lucretia nodded.</p>
<p><br/>“When?”</p>
<p><br/>Hermione looked at the time. Afternoon, no classes anymore but not curfew for another few hours.</p>
<p><br/>“Now”, she said with another smirk.</p>
<p>Lucretia was thrilled when Hermione led them outside the castle and even more so when she apparated them into the busy street of Diagon Ally although they had to sit down for a minute so that Lucretia could get over her nausea. </p>
<p><br/>But she smiled at Hermione and asked her where she learned to apparate so well. Hermione only looked away, her face passive and her mind flashing to the woods, the camp, to Ron and Harry. She only shrugged.</p>
<p><br/>As it turned out, Lucretia knew the perfect little shop in one of the backstreets. It was small but upon entering Hermione knew it was exclusive. Not somewhere Hermione would go to, not something that was in her budget. As if Lucretia had read Hermione’s mind, she looked at the girl and said in a tone that didn’t leave room for discussion that she would pay for Hermione.</p>
<p><br/>“We are… friends… after all.”, Lucretia said with smile just as a thin woman appeared and eyed them before smiling graciously.</p>
<p><br/>“Lady Black”, she said with a small bow. “How unexpected”</p>
<p><br/>“Yes, Mrs Robé, we are in desperate need for gowns for a ball and we hope you will be able to help us.”</p>
<p><br/>The thin woman nodded, before leading them further into the shop. Hermione let her eyes wander through the many racks that were filled with gowns and dresses and robes, one more beautiful than the other. She watched the thin woman, Mrs Robé, wander through the small spaces like she had been born here. It was truly fascinating.</p>
<p><br/>They sat down on a leather sofa. The whole interior of the shop looked like the Slytherin common room, so it was not hard to guess what kind of clientele frequented the boutique. Hermione let her gaze wander over the many clothes that were neatly hung and folded, the materials seemed incredible luxurious, the knitting and stitching intricate and the patters were woven into the fabric with much care.</p>
<p><br/>Hermione was able to spot all kinds of symbols that were famous for the wizarding world. She saw half-moons and suns, stars and runes and more which she couldn’t identify. Some dresses shimmered in the dim light of the shop, others seemed as if they were made out of pure diamonds in the way the reflected the light so brightly. </p>
<p>It was astonishing and truly amazing. Her fingers grazed the cold leather and she felt her eyes closing, relishing in the softness under her finger tips. Her mind went to Tom, whose skin felt just as soft, how his dark gaze always seemed to pin her down and to capture her fully.</p>
<p><br/>The old and thin lady returned and Hermione, for the first time, was able to take in her form. She was definitely lithe, bones were sticking out in places they had no deal being. She wore a small pencil skirt and a wide blouse, although Hermione guessed that everything was too big on the woman. The lady had wide grey eyes that sat deep in her face and her thin lips were, just like her skin, crinkled like over used parchment. She eyed Hermione with disdain. Hermione only raised an eyebrow. It was clear that no love was lost between the two.</p>
<p><br/>“And what colours did the ladies have in mind?”, she said, her voice surprisingly strong for a woman so small and thin.</p>
<p><br/>Lucretia let her gaze wonder over the many dresses that lay around them and made a thoughtful noise in the back of her throat.</p>
<p><br/>“I think, I will go for something classic, like black. My friend on the other hand -“, her smile turned to Hermione and she had a mischievous glint in her eyes “- is in need of something green, Slytherin green.”</p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>Hermione had to agree, Lucretia had been absolutely right. Slytherin green was the only way to go. It had <em>only</em> taken about two hours for the girls to find their dresses respectively. Hermione hadn’t even dared to ask how much they cost. The thin lady had only bowed and smiled, a greedy glint in her normally dull eyes, so Hermione concluded that they hadn’t been cheap.</p>
<p><br/>They left the boutique with nothing in their hands, the pieces of clothes were to be sent directly to Hogwarts. Mrs Robé had promised them that they would be waiting for them on their beds upon return. With polite goodbyes they had left the shop, the air had been even crispier, the coldness seeping into Hermione’s skin and bones. She suddenly wished for Toms warm hands.</p>
<p>True to her words, the dresses really were on Lucretia’s and Hermione’s bed upon their return to Hogwarts, wrapped in brown leathery paper that crinkled loudly when touched.</p>
<p>Hermione stored it away, putting many antitheft jinxes on it just to be sure. She gazed outside her window that let in the gloomy light that was telling for the fast approaching winter. Hermione yearend to see her friends again, she wanted to hug Harry and Ron, she wanted to rebuild the world after they had won the war.</p>
<p>They <em>had</em> won it because… Hermione wasn’t sure what she would do if she found out that in fact they didn’t, that in fact everything had been in vain and nothing they had done, had been for anything. No, she didn’t dare dwell on such thoughts. It was a good possibility that she would never know because if she was to stay in the past, she would do anything to ensure that the first wizarding war would be the only one.</p>
<p>She knew after all, she knew that Voldemort… Tom… had Hocruxes and she knew where he had hid them. She knew how to destroy them, even if getting Basilisk blood would pose a little problem but those were only technicalities.</p>
<p><br/>She could set out on her quest without anybody knowing. She could and she would. Her heart clenched because it was Tom after all, it was her Tom, the boy with the dark eyes, with so much passion and intelligence in him. Intelligence and passion that had never been used for something good because nobody had deemed it fit to show <em>him</em> kindness or anything remotely resembling friendship or love. It has always been pain and mistrust.</p>
<p>So the boy had only given what he had received, a life time of bitterness and coldness. Hermione didn’t want to fight against Tom, she really didn’t but when it came to it, she knew, was absolutly certain, where her true loyalty was.</p>
<p><br/>She remembered the Yule ball. It was like the last time that she had been truly happy. It was the last time they enjoyed life without Voldemort looming and ever present in the back of their minds. Before they knew that they could all very well die, before it was apparent that Harry would have to face him.</p>
<p><br/>Suddenly she couldn’t wait for the ball, the same feeling that had engulfed all those years ago, while the Yule ball had been imminent, coursed through her body again and made her giddy with excitement. Because in a sense it was over and it felt like this ball was the first step to a new life. It was the first step into her life that she could finally live like she wanted.</p>
<p><br/>She wanted to see Tom. The urge was sudden but strong. She wanted to share her excitement. He had not been in the common room and so hadn’t his cronies. <em>Death eaters</em>, Hermione’s mind whispered, her hand clenching over her wand, the good feeling in her blood fading rapidly. She still had a few minutes to curfew. Resolved to find Tom, she left her dormitory and the Slytherin dungeon.</p>
<p>The corridors were deserted, silence weighing heavy in the air, the coldness of the winter already deep in Hogwarts bones. <em>Where could Tom be?</em> Hermione had the great suspicion that he usually met his followers in the room of Requirement. She knew after all that his older self knew about the room so he must have discovered it in his school years.</p>
<p>Of course Tom would uncover every damn secret that the castle held. Hermione let the weight of her wand, resting against her fingers, reassure her. The eyes of the portraits were following her curiously.</p>
<p><br/>She rounded the corner and came face to face something that she would rather not have encountered.</p>
<p>Edgar Avery, a true sight to be seen and definitely not in a good way. More like in an “I-am-Mudblood-is-this-a-Basilisk” way. It made her think of the ugly yellow eyes of the long wet snake. Edger had similar eyes.</p>
<p><br/>His sandy coloured hair fell into his distorted face and again Hermione dully noted that he truly was ugly. Nothing seemed to fit in his face. His nose was big and red and looked more like swollen pile of flesh than anything else. His mouth was stretched into a crooked smirk that did nothing for the asymmetries of his face.</p>
<p><br/>Hermione smiled back thinly. He sneered. How predictable. Out of the corner of her eye she saw his fingers fumble for his wand. Much too obvious.</p>
<p><em>Mistake one</em>.</p>
<p><br/>Hermione watched with satisfaction as he thought himself so clever. He had reached for his wand. He was sure that he would have the element of surprise. <br/>“Granger, was it?”, he said, his voice somehow reflecting the ugliness of his face.<em> Astonishing</em>, Hermione thought.</p>
<p><br/> “I can’t seem to remember those Muggle names, you see....”, self-satisfied he smiled cruelly, thinking that his stabs must be hitting Hermione directly in her heart.</p>
<p><br/><em>Mistake two</em>.</p>
<p><br/>“Oh, I wager you have problems with remembering anything, really.”, she answered lightly, brushing a few stray strand of hair from her face. Her eyes studied him, making him squirm under her scrutiny. <em>Good</em>, Hermione though,<em> be uncomfortable.</em> She lightly leaned against the corridor wall, her eyes never leaving Edger.<br/>He sneered again.</p>
<p><br/>Where was Tom? She really didn’t have the patience for this. Every good feeling she had had a few minutes ago had just flown out the window, in a suicide kind of way.</p>
<p> <br/>“I would watch your tongue Mudblood.”, he said, his voice dark and dripping with venom.</p>
<p>Hermione guessed that he would be intimidating for ordinary people. Had she been the Hermione Granger from before, she surly would have shivered and her eyes wide with fright. Because his voice spoke of pleasure taken from the pain of others, of the darkness that lay beyond these walls and the things he could and would do with his wand.</p>
<p>But alas Hermione wasn’t the little girl in the purple Yule dress anymore. No, Avery didn’t scare her, he was only a child compared to the things she had once endured.</p>
<p><br/><em>Mistake three</em>, she thought gloomy. They were really piling on, weren’t they?</p>
<p><br/>“I would watch your back, Avery, not that something would happen. Wouldn’t that be unfortunate?”, she said, her tone still awfully light.</p>
<p><br/>“Is that a threat, you filthy Mudblood?”, he asked, voice cold.</p>
<p>It sounded exactly as she remembered the voices of all the death eaters. Cold, cruel and devoid of any humanity. It made her hand clench. But her mind was oddly free, free of thought and fear. Because <em>this</em> she knew, the spark in her blood, making magic dance across her skin and igniting her spirit.</p>
<p>For those minutes she could set everything aside, every fear and every feeling. Slowly and deliberately she righted herself, straightening her spine. Magic rushed through her blood and her heart hammered against her chest.</p>
<p><br/>“It is a promise.”, Hermione whispered and reacted before Avery even finished the hex. A white shield erupted out of thin air before her, the hex bouncing off, not even rippling her magic. Hermione smiled faintly. She still had it in her.</p>
<p><br/><em>“Baubillious”</em>, Hermione cried, magic coursing through her very being.</p>
<p>A mighty white bolt of energy, glowing and blinding, left the tip of her wand. Its energy wrapped itself around the corridor, making everything hum, making the air vibrate with its power. Hermione hadn’t been able to practise magic to her liking in too long a time.</p>
<p>Avery didn’t stand a chance. Not even his pitiful shield did anything. Her magic ripped through it and threw the boy across the space that was still humming with power. He hit the wall with a grunt. Before Hermione could raise her wand a second time, her hand only shaking a little from the Adrenalin, a hand on her shoulder stopped her.</p>
<p>She instinctively knew that it was Tom, because she felt his magic hum in sync with hers, felt how it matched her in every way.</p>
<p><br/>She turned her head and it <em>was</em> Tom, his dark eyes alight like a forest fire in the middle of the night, like a blinding star in the sky. Anger was in his eyes. Anger not directed at her.</p>
<p><br/>“That is quiet enough, Hermione.”, he said his voice uncharacteristically soft.</p>
<p>She only nodded and lowered her wand, captured by his dark gaze. His fingers, warm and soft, drew patterns into the skin at her shoulder, like they were doing it unconsciously, like he didn’t mean to touch her but couldn’t help himself.</p>
<p><br/>“Where were you”, she asked, accusingly. “I was looking for you.”</p>
<p><br/>“I just had a few thing to do…”, he said vaguely. His eyes glided to Avery who was slowly righting himself again. His lips twitched. “You know.”, he said, his tone much lighter now, “I heard voices, so I came to help you because it sounded like Edger was about to do something he would regret dearly”, the last part he said with anger and darkness colouring his voice, his magic raising again.</p>
<p>Hermione could feel like a taste on her tongue. It made her drunk because this raw power, this pure form of magic, was so like hers but so fundamentally different. It felt like he was made to complete her, to make her whole.</p>
<p><br/>“Don’t.”, Hermione said, shaking her head. “Don’t do something I wouldn’t do. Least of all in the excuse that it’s for me. I don’t want something on my consciousness.”</p>
<p><br/>Tom looked at her, ripping his gaze from the boy that had finally been able to stand up and was still clutching his wand tightly. The hand on her shoulder applied preasure, his fingers digging into her skin.</p>
<p><br/>“Do you know”, Tom said, hissing, “<em>Hermione</em>, what he would do, if he could. If you weren’t stronger than him?” He said her name like he was addressing a child, like she knew nothing.</p>
<p><br/>“I think I know perfectly fine,<em> Tom</em>”, Hermione said hotly, brushing off his hand. “I think I know better than anyone else. Have you forgotten my scar? Do you think that was the only thing that happened?”</p>
<p><br/>Tom didn’t answer, his eyes glowering and his jaw set.</p>
<p><br/>“Leave Edger.”, he said suddenly. Hermione turned again, Edger was still holding his wand and it was trained at her. She had been distracted. Tom had distracted her.</p>
<p><br/>“Tom…?”, Edgar said, his tone now slightly questioning.</p>
<p><br/>“I will not repeat myself.”, Tom said again and now even Hermione shivered because <em>this</em>, his voice laced with coldness and power, this made her afraid.</p>
<p>Not Avery with his wand, because that just looked like a child trying to act like a grown-up. No, it was Tom, always Tom, because Tom’s voice was embedded in darkness and darkness left things to the imagination. Only imagination could do worse than reality.</p>
<p>If Hermione was slightly afraid, Avery was absolutely terrified, but there was also defiance in his eyes. Hermione saw it and acknowledged it. He didn’t like it, he was scared of Tom but he didn’t like Tom, not one bit.</p>
<p><br/>“Yes, Tom.”, Edger finally said, mouth set into a thin line.</p>
<p>He walked away stiffly, brushing past the two of them, his eyes narrowing in on Hermione and there was so <em>much</em> hate in them that it was already ridiculous because…. what had she done, really? Tom’s hand was on her shoulder again and he pulled her into himself, her back flush with his chest.</p>
<p>His other hand landed on her waist and pinned her to him. He was definitely looming over her. She could only imagine how scarily black his eyes must have been.</p>
<p><br/>“Run along Avery, you don’t have all night.”, he said, his voice seemingly light.</p>
<p>Avery <em>did</em> run along, his brain apparently finally catching up with himself. He ran like a little girl, scared and fast. The echoes of his footsteps faded slowly, finally leaving Hermione and Tom alone. Tom’s thumb on her waist pressed into her skin, his other hand that had been resting on her shoulder slowly crept to her exposed neck, fingers dancing over her skin. She closed her eyes and sank deeper into him, his arm tightening around her.</p>
<p>His nose brushed against her hair, he inhaled deeply, his fingers lightly combed through her locks.</p>
<p><br/>“What did he do?”, Tom whispered, his voice low and horse. Like <em>he</em> was afraid of the answer. “Did he hurt you?”</p>
<p><br/>Hermione snorted and finally turned around, Tom’s hand not falling from her waist. His fingers splayed the small of her back, pressing her even more firmly against him. Her heart beat wildly. </p>
<p><br/>“Hurt me?”, she whispered back. “I think I can handle him”, she said her hand cupping Tom’s cheek.</p>
<p>She smiled softly. Tom’s still were dangerously dark but they seemed to darken even further when Hermione pressed herself even tighter against his hard body.</p>
<p><br/>“You were looking for me?”, he suddenly changed the topic.</p>
<p><br/>“Yes”, Hermione said, startled out of her cloud of… well, Tom really. “Yes, I was, wasn’t I?”, she seemed to mull this over for a few second. What had she wanted, again? Tom’s fingers danced across her neck again, edging away the hemline of her robe.</p>
<p>He dipped down and pressed a small kiss, a peck really, to her now exposed shoulder, his fingers glided further down her arm. They came to a rest just above her scar and his grip tightened.</p>
<p><br/>“Ah, yes…”, Hermione continued, her mind all foggy. “Yes… Ah, I guessed you must be with your cronies, so I sat out to look for you….”</p>
<p><br/>Tom snorted.</p>
<p>“My cronies?”</p>
<p><br/>Hermione rolled her eyes. “Well, yes, that is the only accurate description.”</p>
<p><br/>“Well then, Hermione, tell me, are you one of my cronies?”, he said, his voice just above a whisper. Hermione shivered and he noticed, his lips pulling into a smirk.<br/>She snorted.</p>
<p><br/>“I really am not.”, she said.</p>
<p><br/>“Didn’t think so.”, he murmured. “but still, don’t underestimate them, Edger may be stupid but he is Slytherin. He may have a plan or something.”, Tom said, his gaze far off suddenly. Hermione nodded.</p>
<p><br/>“I don’t like your… friends…”, she said.</p>
<p><br/>“There are not my friends”, he answered, tone final. Hermione nodded. She knew that.</p>
<p><br/>“No, maybe servants is more accurate”, she whispered back at him. <em>Death eaters</em></p>
<p><br/>His gaze snapped back to her, eyes narrowing. She was too close to the truth, she knew. Neither of them said something for a while but Hermione wasn’t finished.</p>
<p><br/>“Look into history. Reign of terror never worked before. It is an invitation for betrayal and for mutiny, for revolution.”</p>
<p><br/>“Then why are the Purebloods still in positon of power, and have been for centuries.”</p>
<p><br/>“They aren’t, not really. They don’t have a reign of power. Actually that is a very interesting topic.”, Hermione said, smiling at Tom but her mind was suddenly somewhere else.</p>
<p>“It is just like the muggle world.”, she continued, even if Tom’s eyes narrowed again. “You see, for example in France one day the so called “commoners” just went and chopped off the heads of ”royalty” because they had enough of being oppressed and exploited. The same in most of the other European countries like Austria or Germany. The same goes for the parallel wizarding world. As much as the wizard-community doesn’t want to admit it, they have always been a kind of distorted mirror of the muggle world.”</p>
<p><br/>“So what are you saying? That my… friends… will behead me one day? Is there something I should know, Hermione?”, Tom said and of course Tom would notice the warning in her voice.</p>
<p>Of course, because he was one of the most talented and intelligent people she knew. Her tone and her insinuation would have just gone over Harrys head, Ron wouldn’t even have listened to her long enough to hear what she was saying. But for Tom you didn’t have to spell out anything.</p>
<p><br/>“Oh Tom, there is so much you should know. So much everybody should know. So much I can’t say.”, she said, her voice laced with sadness. “All I am saying tonight Tom, is that this kind of power, this kind of reign doesn’t work, not in the long run anyway. Maybe for a hundred years, maybe longer but never, and mark my words, <em>never</em> for the time you have planned.”</p>
<p><br/>She brushed past him because she couldn’t. She couldn’t look him in the eyes because she told him, in so many words, that she knew what his plan was and that it wouldn’t work. Maybe she should just have kept silent.</p>
<p><br/>A hand on her wrist yanked her back, so she tumbled into Tom’s chest.</p>
<p><br/>“What <em>do</em> you know Hermione? How much is it really? I am not so sure if you really understand me, you silly little girl.”, Tom said, his jaw set. He was angry but so was Hermione. <em>Silly little girl</em>. She ripped her arm away.</p>
<p><br/>“I will not talk to you about this Tom.”, she said, anger coursing through her blood, magic crackling along her spine.</p>
<p><br/>“Oh, but I think you will, because I don’t think you know as much as you think, Hermione. Because if you did, you would never kiss me, you would never look at me with your wide and innocent eyes.”, Tom’s voice had become frosty cold and so cruel. He wanted to hurt her, Hermione realized, he still thought her to be naïve.</p>
<p><br/>“You don’t know, Hermione. They say the Cruciatus Curse comes naturally to me. You should hear my “cronies” cry and beg me to stop, Hermione. If you heard you would not be holding my hand and you would not come to my room every night.”, it was as if a dam had broken.</p>
<p>Fear rushed through her body, fear because in the eyes of her Tom there was the glint that one day would take over and would fully become Voldemort.</p>
<p><br/>“Yes, does tell a lot about me, doesn’t it? To have fallen for a psychopath.”, Hermione answered, her wand weighing heavy between her fingers.</p>
<p>She saw his fingers clench, saw his eyes darken even more. “It says a lot about my faith in humanity, in you really, Tom. Call me naïve, call me stupid, I don’t care. Just know, I do, Tom. I truly know how naturally the Cruciatus-curse comes to you. Your older self doesn’t hesitate to deliver it.”</p>
<p><br/>With those words Hermione turned again, intent on just <em>leaving</em> but she found herself suddenly unable to move. It was instant, she gripped her wand tighter, her magic crashing over her like a tidal wave.</p>
<p>Nothing was safe from it, the strange hold Tom had cast over her was shredded to pieces by the sheer force of her will power.</p>
<p>She faced him again, knuckles white. Tom had his wand out. And this was it, this was what Hermione had feared. What she had been waiting for because apparently nothing was enough to get to Tom. Not her, least of all her and it made her inexplicably sad because he had been enough to reach her very core, to touch her heart in every conceivable way. But suddenly it seemed like the force, the anger seemed to run out of Tom, understanding dawning in his eyes.</p>
<p><br/>“It is me, isn’t it?”, he whispered. “The one you are fighting in the future.” Hermione didn’t answer. Didn’t have to.</p>
<p><br/>“You know”, Tom continued, his wand clattering to the cold floor but he didn’t seem to notice. He took a step towards her, longing in his eyes. “I hear you whisper at night. I hear you plea and cry. I thought I heard you whisper my name, my other name, <em>Voldemort</em>, one time. I thought it couldn’t be.”</p>
<p><br/>He was before her, his breath fanning over her face, carrying with it his scent that still installed a feeling of security in Hermione, which was ridiculous.</p>
<p><br/>“Yes”, Hermione finally croaked out. Tears stinging her eyes. “Tom Marvolo Riddle, I am Lord Voldemort. How utterly stupid.”, she said with a small measure of defiance. Tom smiled sadly.</p>
<p><br/>“I guess so. No matter”, he said, his voice pressing into her. “I will never hurt you. Not now, not in the future. Everybody knows you are off limits and anybody who dares to touch you will be punished.”, he said with an air of finality. It felt like he was trying to convince himself more than her.</p>
<p><br/>Before Hermione could say anything really because this whole thing was giving her emotional whiplash, he pressed her against the wall, her wand falling to the ground, joying his. His mouth met hers in an aggressive dance, he pressed her against the cold stone. But she wasn’t cold, she was on fire as she usually was when with him. His breath came in ragged breathes.</p>
<p><br/>“Never. Hermione, I won’t hurt you… safe, you will be safe…”, he hissed against the column of her neck, his hands dragging over her robes, pushing them aside so he could reach her skin, so he could feel her.</p>
<p><br/>“I wouldn’t… I couldn’t…”, he pressed his mouth against hers, capturing it again, swallowing all of the noises that escaped Hermione’s throat.</p>
<p>Hermione didn’t hear what he said after this, too engrossed in everything that was Tom, because <em>this</em>, everything she shared with this man, everything she felt, it was so much and it felt like it was a fundamental part of her. It would be so hard to turn her wand against him but she <em>would</em>. Truly, she would <em>kill</em> him if she had to, even if it killed her.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry for the delay, I am studying for a very big exam that I have on monday... I am ready for this to be over haha...</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The whole castle had been transformed. Well not the castle more the Quidditch Pitch and the path leading to it.</p><p><br/><em>Halloween</em>, the whole school was alight with energy and with so much delight that the grand day had finally come. The teachers didn’t even try to go through with something even resembling a normal school day.</p><p>Every single Professor left them to their own devices and dismissed them early. Hermione tried, she really did, to concentrate on her own book, to ignore the idle chatter around her. But every lesson, when the Professor just waved their hands indicating that they were allowed to do as they pleased, Tom had sat down next to her, both of them silent in the noisy room.</p><p>But his hand had rested on her thigh, not very high. No, it had been perfectly proper but the sheer possessiveness in his eyes and the <em>way</em> he put his hand on her had made her shiver and unable to bloody concentrate on her book. The small glances he threw her way made it abundantly clear that he knew what he was doing to her.</p><p><br/>“I see you like Arithmancy”, he said during potions, his hand still resting lightly against her thigh and she had been <em>trying</em> to read a book by Bridget Wenlock. It was, of course, about Arithmancy.</p><p><br/>“Well observed.”, Hermione noted with a good measure of sarcasm. She turned a page without having read anything, Tom knew. He smirked and leaned into her.</p><p><br/>“But you don’t take Divination. Don’t you want to know what the stars have to say about you?”</p><p><br/>Hermione let her book sink.</p><p><br/>“Seriously? You believe in that absolute trash?”, she grit out. Tom made a noise of disapproval.</p><p><br/>“Such colourful language.”, he whispered, eyes glinting. Leaning back his passive mask slipped on again. “But for your question, I do. It comes in rather handy, don’t you think. To know what the future holds for you? Not everyone has the pleasure to have a time traveller at their side.”</p><p><br/>Hermione’s eyes widened. The audacity.</p><p><br/>“Divination is just a bunch of idiots staring into the sky and saying a few vague things… If you never see a prophecy you are off better because it can be interpreted in a thousand ways and…”, Hermione stopped in her ranting, seeing that Tom had leaned back, smiling.</p><p>“I hate you.”, she finished, a little put out.</p><p><br/>“Just checking if you are still my Hermione.”, he said casually, laughing with a bright smile.</p><p>~*~</p><p>Hermione looked at herself in the mirror. Lucretia stood next to her. They were getting ready.</p><p><br/>“I think I will go with a simple look.”, Lucretia said, her wand between her fingers.</p><p>“Near-married life is so boring.”, she said under her breath. With a few murmured spells her face was not very different from what it had been a few seconds before but somehow sharper looking and more refined. She looked as beautiful as usual.</p><p><br/>“Then again”, Lucretia continued, “you are practically married yourself.”</p><p><br/>Hermione’s elbow slipped from its position on the sink and she nearly banged her head against its edge. Her face morphed into a shocked expression.</p><p><br/>“What?”</p><p><br/>“Don’t act so surprised.”, Lucretia said off handed, not even blinking at her Hermione’s clumsiness. “Nobody will touch you, because Tom would have their head. You are not getting out of this.”, she said, her tone a bit too conversationally. She was warning her again, Hermione realized.</p><p><br/>“I don’t want to.”, she said carefully. Not <em>yet. </em>Lucretia nodded. “But marriage is defiantly not on the table. Don’t be ridiculous. Not that I don’t want to… but it is Tom and he would never… he would never and besides… we are so young… and he… Tom… I mean… ”</p><p>Hermione stopped her rambling and lowered her wand. She watched Lucretia through the mirror. Lucretia smiled softly and pointed her wand at Hermione. A month ago Hermione would have flinched.</p><p><br/>“All I am saying, Hermione, is that he gave you a ring, his ring, probably a family heirloom, and that is a promise. A promise of a long lasting bond because it is valuable and not given lightly.”</p><p><br/>“Tom isn’t someone to marry.”</p><p><br/>“Love can change a man fundamentally. I have the feeling that he would follow you to the end of the world, Hermione. There, that should do it!”, the last part Lucretia said in a tone that indicated that the conversation was over and not to be reopened again.</p><p><br/>Hermione looked at herself in the mirror again. Her hair, much more manageable than it used to be but still too much most of the time, was curled softly and falling over her shoulder and down her back. Her eyes looked wide open, innocent as Tom had described them, the brown of her iris nearly golden in the dim light and only accented by the soft line around her eyes. Her lashes framing them were dark and full, her lips red like rose petals.</p><p><br/>“Can’t hurt to look your best, though.”, Lucretia added with a smirk. “Tom is always so smooth and composed. I like to see his exterior crack, it is most entertaining. And he will be looking at you like he wants to devour you the whole evening. I mean he does so usually but he will more so tonight…”, Lucretia laughed like she had said something funny. Hermione didn’t answer. Didn’t know what to answer, really.</p><p><br/>“Now dresses…”, with a flick of her wand their dresses flew into the small bathroom, Hermione’s landing on her lap. Lucretia started to change without shame.</p><p><br/>“All I am saying, Hermione, is to have fun tonight. Because we are soon finished with Hogwarts. This is our last year and the relationships forged in the last year usually hold.”<br/>Hermione pulled her shirt over her head.</p><p><br/>“Yes, you are quite right. What will I do, if I am not sharing a room with you anymore?”, Hermione said, snickering.</p><p><br/>“Don’t be silly, you will come by for tea every week of course.”, Lucretia said grinning and Hermione knew that she was being serious.</p><p><br/>“What is that?”, Lucretia said suddenly and Hermione followed her gaze with dread. Because she had been so stupid, hadn’t thought about the scare that still was an ugly red on her arm. Her other hand flew to her forearm, shielding it from Lucretia’s view. <em>Mudblood. </em></p><p><br/>“I…”, Hermione started, suddenly very sad. <em>Mudblood, Mudblood</em>, rang in her ear when she saw the crooked letters<em>.</em> The smell of crimson blood filled her nose. The same smell that had hung in the cold air in the Malfoy manor, only pierced by her cries.</p><p><br/>“Who did that to you?”, Lucretia said, her voice full of shock. <em>Your niece.</em> That would not go over well, Hermione conceded.</p><p><br/>“You don’t want to know.”, Hermione said instead. Lucretia finally looked up, her gaze hard.</p><p><br/>“Was it Tom?”, she asked and her voice was quiet and angry and so full of venom that  Hermione recoiled.</p><p><br/>“No of course not. I would have killed him if it had been. The person who did that isn’t alive anymore.”, she said instead.</p><p>Anymore, not yet, what was the difference, really? Lucretia’s dark gaze held Hermione’s and for the first time Hermione saw the hard cruel eyes that Bellatrix would one day wear proudly.</p><p><br/>“If you ever find yourself in a position where you can’t tell anyone what has happened, you can always come to me. The protection of the house of Black stands behind you.”, Lucretia said, still not breaking their eye contact.</p><p>Hermione was filled with a sense of warmth because this woman, Black or not, didn’t care that Hermione was a Mudblood, that she wasn’t pure. No, Lucretia offered her help, offered her protection from something that was far more powerful, someone that already had his claws in most of the powerful families.</p><p><br/>“Does he know? Because I have heard rumours in the Pureblood circles that he is… an advocate of some ideas….”, Lucretia continued  delicately. It was clear she was talking about Tom.</p><p><br/>“He threw a fit when he found the scar.”, Hermione said. “But not because I am a Mudblood. And Lucretia… I know Tom better than anybody else. Better than he does himself, probably. I know about his <em>friends</em> and his ideas and his ambitions. If it really comes to it, I will not stand by Tom’s side but my wand will be turned against him.”</p><p><br/>The silence that settled over the room was deafening. It was final. Because Hermione had said it out loud. That she would go against the person that had become most important to her. She would not be stupid enough to fall for his lies. Lucretia’s smile was blinding.</p><p><br/>“I knew I had a reason to like you”, she said. “But there are some things you can’t imagine, Hermione. Some things that would cost me my life, if I told you.”</p><p><br/>“Lucretia?”</p><p><br/>The girl had turned away slightly, her brows furrowed in concern over Hermione.</p><p><br/>“Did you ever wonder how I came here?”, Hermione continued, having made up her mind to trust Lucretia. “Someone with no relatives, with no ties to anyone and with no records whatsoever? Why I have nightmares every night?”</p><p><br/>Lucretia let the hem of her dress that she had been holding in her hands sink slowly. Her face flashed with confusion.</p><p><br/>“Well, yes, to be honest.”, she said a bit nervously.</p><p><br/>“What I now tell you, can’t leave these walls.”, Hermione whispered, after throwing up the best wards that she knew. “You can ask ever person on this planet but nobody will have heard of me because I am not from here. I had an accident. I was born 1979. Attended Hogwarts at eleven and during my first year a very dark wizard who had been thought to be dead resurfaced. Fun fact, he lived on the back of the head of my Defence against the dark arts teacher in first year.”, Hermione felt stupid even saying these words.</p><p>It really sounded ridiculous. Maybe Lucretia would send her to a mental hospital now.</p><p><br/>“What?”, Lucretia said, shock evident in ever crease on her face. “Are you serious?”</p><p><br/>“Yes I am, and said dark wizard resurrected for good in my fourth year. My best friend had been dubbed The Chosen One because of some stupid prophecies and allegedly would be the only one, even at fourteen, to be able to defeat this evil man. Said wizard was therefore trying to kill my best friend on every turn. In sixth year the dark wizard and his followers took over the ministry and we, my best friend and Ron, my second best friend, went on the run. We went hunting. To kill the dark wizard for once and all. He had split his soul a few times so that he would be immortal. We hunted and hunted for these pieces. During this time we were captured by so called snatchers, brought to Malfoy manor, I was tortured for information and a lovely Lady gave me this scar.”, she gestured to her arm.</p><p>“We escaped, our fight lead us back to Hogwarts where a big battle broke out. Everybody on my side against the dark wizard and his followers. I strongly believe that we would have one. I was hit by a killing curse before I could find out. It hit my time turner and I was sent back in time instead of dying.”</p><p><br/>Lucretia only stared. For minutes there was nothing between them, only the truth and only shock. Lucretia gripped the edge of the sink, her knuckles as white as her face.</p><p><br/>“Thank you”, Lucretia finally whispered. “For telling me.”</p><p><br/>“The thing is.”, Hermione said and it was if her mind finally caught up.</p><p>Her hands were shacking, her blood was sloshing in her ears.</p><p>“The name of the wizard was Lord Voldemort, previously known as Tom Marvolo Riddle, son of a Muggle with the same name and a woman who was a descendent of the Gaunts and in consequence Salazar Slytherin himself.”</p><p><br/>Lucretia’s dress fell to her floor. She stumbled back, hitting the cold bathroom wall.</p><p><br/>“Tom…”, she whispered, her eyes big with shock.</p><p><br/>“Yes, Tom. I thought about killing him, about ending the two wars that follow him. But I decided against it because then I wouldn’t be any better than him and those who follow him. Instead I fell in love with him. However, when the time comes and should he not listen to me and become Voldemort again then I will not hesitate to do my best to end the war before it has even started. Should it come to this, I offer you my protection. The protection of the order of Phoenix, an order that will be founded some time in the future to unite against Voldemort.”</p><p><br/>“How can you stand to be around him, if you know him like… this?”, Lucretia said, finally processing the words that had been spilled in front of her.</p><p><br/>“In my time, Tom isn’t Tom anymore. He has barely a scrap of soul left and he looks… different. His eyes are red, set deeply in their sockets, his head smooth like the scales of snake, his nose only slits and his skin a deathly blueish grey. He isn’t human anymore.”</p><p><br/>“Do you think… that he won’t do it this time around? Because of you?”</p><p><br/>“You said he would follow me to the end of the world, Lucretia, but I don’t know what will happen, I can only hope for the best.”</p><p>~*~</p><p>They were late.</p><p>After their <em>talk</em> they hadn’t been in a hurry to dress and go to a ball. But Hermione didn’t feel remorse. It had to be said because Lucretia was her friend and she couldn’t let he friends run into a future so dark and gloomy without knowing.</p><p>The secret had been pressing down on her, making her isolated from all the others, only adding to her detachment from herself, from her very person. It made her feel validated to have told Lucretia. It didn’t feel like she was the odd one out anymore.</p><p><br/>When she came down the stairs, she instantly spotted Tom looking so beautifully elegant that her heart gave a painful squeeze. Impatience was edged into the curve of his mouth, irritation flashing in his dark eyes. They had kept him waiting and Tom did not like to wait.</p><p>However, this all melted away when he saw Hermione, the hem of her dress silently dragging over the smooth floor. It was, as Lucretia had decided, a dark Slytherin green and clung to her figure in an obscene way that was bordering on inappropriate.</p><p>The material was silky and smooth, not unlike the skin of snake. The way it flow down Hermione’s body reminded her or a silent waterfall. Every sparkle of light was reflected by the adornments that embellished the waist and neckline, which dipped too low for the standards of the forties.</p><p>But alas, Tom didn’t seem to mind when his eyes wandered down her form, his gaze glued to her décolleté for too long.</p><p>The sleeves were long and opulent, ending in dark feathers that nearly scraped the floor. The same feathers were also occluding the hemline of the skirt, which flared out just after hinting at the delicate curve of her hips.</p><p>She looked like a bloody Slytherin princess and she knew it, Tom knew it, everybody knew it. His eyes gleamed in the darkness of the barely lit room, his hand clenched at his sides like he was trying to hold himself back from touching her but his smiled betrayed everything.</p><p><br/>Upon finally reaching him, he sneaked an arm around her small waist and dipped low to whisper in her ear.</p><p><br/>“You look exquisite, my love”</p><p><br/>Hermione started at his use of an endearment but his eyes were so serious and, did she dare say, full of something resembling love that she didn’t want to talk. She wanted to kiss him. His arm tightened around her and his nose brushed over her hair. She heard him inhale, his breath tickling her long locks.</p><p><br/>“<em>Mine</em>”, he whispered before finally straightening. Lucretia had already gone, Hermione suddenly realised with contempt. She couldn’t blame the girl. She herself had needed a few minutes before being able to face Tom again, her hands hadn’t wanted to stop shaking. She still could hear the faint screams of agony of her friends, could smell the dark magic in the air.</p><p><br/>Her hands smoothed over Tom’s dress robes. He looked so handsome, all in black, as expected, his eyes just as dark, his skin alabaster and gleaming in the moonshine. His lips were blood red and in stark contrast to the rest of his persona. It made Hermione dizzy with want.</p><p><br/>He offered her his arm with a true smile. A smile that Hermione never saw directed at other people, only ever in the privacy of his room, when he let his guard down a bit, both exhausted and sweaty but satisfied.</p><p>He smiled at her now, in the dimly lit room, his eyes only on her. And her eyes only on him, her heart only beating for him. She truly never thought that one could feel so strongly for one person. She had never in her life experienced anything like it, it was like a tidal wave, like a storm and like being drowned but awakened at the same time.</p><p><br/>“Let’s go. I told the others to not wait up for us.”</p><p><br/>Truly, all the others that attended the ball, which was everyone, really, were already gone. It was only Tom and she.</p><p>“Although”, Tom continued, leaning down again and pressing his hard body against hers, “I wouldn’t mind to go back to our room.”, his eyes were hungry, wandering to her neckline again. <em>Our room.</em></p><p><br/>“I bought this dress for this ball, I want to go.”, Hermione said but her voice was breathless as she peered up at him. He smirked again.</p><p><br/>“What my lady wishes, is my command”, he whispered and a shiver ran down Hermione’s spine. She was beginning to change her mind. Before she could say or do something stupid like drag him back to his room, he offered her his arm and she held on to it gladly.</p><p><br/>“I once went to a ball.”, Hermione said. Tom watched her out of the corner of his eyes while opening the door for her, letting her pass under his arm.</p><p><br/>“Only one?”, her asked nonplussed.</p><p><br/>“Yes, we don’t really have balls anymore. But in my fourth year the Triwizard tournament had been reinstated. Which was absolutely ridiculous because it had been abolished due to excessive danger to the students, which took part in it, in the first place. It was a disaster waiting to happen.”, Hermione grumbled, remembering her worry over Harry and her anger at Dumbledore. It had been so stupid.</p><p><br/>“Did you participate?”, Tom asked with a hint of excitement in his voice.</p><p><br/>“Of course not!”, she exclaimed, “I was too young, besides my life was dangerous enough, I didn’t need to put myself in more danger on purpose.”, she added. “I am sure you would have jumped on the idea.”</p><p><br/>Tom only smiled again. “It does hold a certain temptation, I have to admit. I would have won, of course.”, the latter part he said with conviction and an excessive amount of arrogance.</p><p><br/>“I did have to participate in a way, though.”, Hermione said after a few beats of silence. Her gaze was wandering over the castle walls. Pumpkins glowing in the dark, their faces smiling and their teeth sharp and jagged lit the way.</p><p><br/>“How come?”</p><p><br/>“Well, the second challenge was something of a rescue mission. From every champion the most important person had been taken and they had to get them back from the bottom of the lake. It was terrible, I remember being in this weird state of consciousness but not really and not breathing but not needing air. It was truly horrifying .”</p><p><br/>“Whom were you taken from?”, Tom asked. Hermione glance at him.</p><p>He seemed curious but his eyes were burning a bit too much for it to be light interest. “Your boyfriend?”, he said, again too casually.</p><p><br/>“Well”, Hermione started, not wanting to make Tom angry. But then again, he had to get a grip. It was utterly ridiculous. “Not that is any of your business but we were never together.”</p><p><br/>“Oh, so he never even deigned to make it official? Just take what he wants and then leave?”, now the anger in his voice was palpable. Somehow, Hermione wasn’t afraid, she was exasperated if anything.</p><p><br/>“In my time things are a bit different. Women are allowed to what they please with whom they please, just as men. You don’t have to be married to be intimate with someone, it isn’t even a great scandal if a woman gets pregnant.”, Hermione said.</p><p>They had stopped at the exit of the castle that led to an earthy path ending at the Quidditch Pitch where the ball was.</p><p><br/>“Viktor, if you have to know, was the Durmstrang champion, he was a famous Quidditch player and very polite.”</p><p><br/>“Didn’t take you as someone to go for fame.”, Tom hissed, and Hermione realized that he took this way too seriously.</p><p>The forties put truly too much value in relationships. Hermione took a step toward Tom, because this was still <em>her</em> Tom, even if his eyes were ablaze and any other would have recoiled from the venom in his words. But not her. She put her hand on his chest, feeling the heat coming off of him, her other hand went to his cheek cupping it.</p><p>Involuntarily, as it seemed, he relished the feeling of her hand on his skin and leaned in, his eyes closing, but Hermione could still see the white of his knuckles as he clenched his hands.</p><p><br/>“He was a nice boy”, Hermione whispered. “Took me to the Yule ball, we still are… well, were or will be, friends but nothing happened, not really.”</p><p><br/>His arms came around her, tight and possessive and Hermione let them. Because she needed it too, needed his passion and his conviction to feel that she belonged. She was lost and he made her feel found.</p><p><br/>“If you say so…”, he grit out, his voice deep and coarse.  </p><p><br/>“I say so and you don’t get to act stupid over it.”, Hermione said, not ungently but firmly. His fingers went to her hand, the one wearing his ring. He touched the dark stone in the middle, with wonder as it seemed.</p><p><br/>“Do you have any plans for after graduation?”, he suddenly said, straightening and resuming their walk. Hermione stumbled after him.</p><p><br/>“Ähm, well… no. I didn’t plan on staying in this time, really, but I don’t think there is a way home. The future had already been altered too much. I don’t think that I can go back.”</p><p><br/>“Would you want to?”, Tom asked, his tone carefully casual.</p><p>What was with him today? Hermione felt like she was in an interrogation. The path winded down the hill and she could already hear the faint swell of music and she could see the floating decoration that cast light over the nature below. Everything sparkled and was bathed in an ethereal light, students in long gowns and mask were walking the grounds, some looking like from a different realm or reality.</p><p>The event had been impeccably planned and executed, even better than the Yule ball, which at the time had seen like a dream.</p><p><br/>“That depends.”, Hermione finally answered after a long time of silence.</p><p>It was a difficult question, the answer not easily found. Tom’s thumb swept over her bare skin. Hermione looked at him from the corner of her eyes.</p><p>Had she not spent so much time with him and had she not seen most of his hidden emotions, she would not have seen the small indicators betraying his nervousness. He was eager but at the same time nervous to hear her answer. Insecure, maybe even, though Hermione couldn’t be sure, it was Tom after all.</p><p><br/>“On what?”, he whispered, his eyes so serious and so open like Hermione had never seen them before. It made her feel like this, what they were talking about, was important to him and to <em>them</em>, to their future.</p><p><br/>“On you”, Hermione answered simply.</p><p>Because it was true. It depended on him, nothing else was keeping her in this time.</p><p>She didn’t wait to see his reaction, they finally entered the ball, she took in the sparkle of the ambient, the clear music ringing through the air and the many people strolling around. It was magnificent. Hermione smiled, even better than the Yule ball, much better. Her hand found Tom’s and she started pulling him towards a small table that looked like somebody was giving out drinks.</p><p>She needed a drink. She wanted to have fun. Her mind took her back to the Yule ball, when Hermione had drunk Butterbeer with Viktor, thinking herself so grown-up. She had been naïve. But not now, not here. </p><p><br/>Tom’s hand never slipped from hers and he handed her a drink. She smiled up at him, sipping and tasting the unknown liquid. <em>Fire whisky</em>.</p><p><br/>She only raised an eyebrow but smiled up at him. He looked at her… fondly. His eyes much less hard as they had been a minute ago.</p><p><br/>“Tom, I thought you wouldn’t come anymore!”, Abraxas Malfoy came from behind Hermione, startling her and making her take a step into Tom who welcomed her into his arms. She turned.</p><p>Abraxas looked so… well, like a Malfoy. His skin pale, nearly translucent, his hair nearly white. <em>Ferret-boy</em>, Hermione thought snickering. Tom only threw her a strange glance at her cackling.</p><p><br/>“And Hermione, as beautiful as usual.”, Abraxas said smoothly, but his voice betraying his insincerity.</p><p>Typical Malfoy, Hermione wanted to say but refrained from doing so. The blond boy bowed a little and took her hand to press a fleeting kiss to it. Hermione pulled it back as soon as possible but smiled back just as politely. What ever happened to Draco, she wondered, she had seen him at the final battle.</p><p>She looked at Abraxas again. Did the boy before her ever think of what his decision could mean for his future family? Did he ever consider that his grandson would suffer so greatly?</p><p><br/>“Abraxas, we wouldn’t miss the ball for the world. I take it the others have already arrived?”, Tom answered in a polite but distant tone.</p><p><br/>Abraxas only nodded, finally looking away from Hermione. There had been something strange in his eyes, Hermione decided.</p><p>Maybe she was just paranoid. But it was like he knew something that she didn’t and therefore was laughing at her. It was only her paranoia, she told herself. Tom didn’t seem to notice or if he did, he didn’t comment.</p><p><br/>No, Hermione was wrong. She was still under the influence of her time in the future, seeing plots and evil plans everywhere.</p><p>Not to say that Abraxas was a nice man. On the contrary, he was, or rather will be, a very good death eater and loyal follower to Voldemort and he didn’t like Hermione one bit. She saw it in the overfriendliness of his gestures, in his pale eyes that were watery and glass-like.</p><p><br/>Not a good look, Hermione decided. She preferred Tom’s dark, hard and intense gaze. His conveyed so much, it could make her shiver in fear or excitement. She didn’t care for the deathly gaze of the Malfoy before her, not one bit.</p><p><br/>“Yes of course.”, Abraxas said, “You are the last ones.”</p><p>“Well”, Tom said after a beat of silence. “You can go, Abraxas, I will get you if I need you.”</p><p><br/>Abraxas pale eyes turned spiteful but he didn’t dare say anything. With a last glance at Hermione, he vanished in the crowed of people.</p><p><br/>“His grandson didn’t like me either.”, Hermione said suddenly. Tom glanced at her, a smile on his face again, like he couldn’t help himself.</p><p><br/>“Not surprising. You surly were better than him in every aspect.”, he said with an air of superiority. Hermione laughed.</p><p><br/>“I punched him in third year. Straight in the face.”, Hermione added, smiling now on her own. Tom grinned proudly.</p><p><br/>“Do tell, why was it necessary to exert violence? You are a lady, after all…”, the last part he said with a good measure of sarcasm and Hermione slapped his arm lightly, feigning to be offended.</p><p><br/>“Well, it is a great story. You see, it all started with me wanting to take more classes than were physically possible because of too little time. So my Professor gave me a time turner…”</p><p><br/>Together they wandered off, drinking and Hermione telling Tom everything about her third year. She did leave out names and details but still managed to tell a good story, both of them laughing when she got to the part about punching Draco. Tom had kissed her while she had laughed remembering the little ferret’s face.</p><p><br/>“I like seeing you laugh”, he had said, shrugging.</p><p><br/>“Let’s dance”, he told her, already dragging her off to the dance floor and pulling her close to him.</p><p><br/>“I think”, he continued, “you had a more exciting school life than me.” Hermione nodded vigorously. He didn’t even know how right he was.</p><p><br/>“Yes, I am sure we had a more exciting school life than anyone else on this world. Every year my best friend nearly died, sometimes I did too. Actually, come to think of it, it is a wonder we didn’t… From fourth year on there was always the threat of war looming over us and that is when things turned serious. In fifth year we started to fight. At first only in school, my best friend had his problems that he had to deal with and we had this terrible teacher that basically took over Hogwarts. They had this Inquisitorial-squad…”, Hermione launched into the next story but this time there was less laughter, although Tom did seem impressed when she told him about her deception of Umbridge.</p><p>She told him about sixth year. She told him about her, Harry and Ron fleeing but she didn’t tell him the reasons. He believed it was due to her being a Mudblood and she didn’t bother to correct him. They danced. The stars glimmered above them.</p><p>Hermione noticed the many stared she got while dancing with the Slytherin Headboy.</p><p>Men and women alike were looking at them, judging and whispering about them. But Hermione didn’t care. After having lived with Rita Skeeter and her terrible lies, Hermione had somewhat become immune to gossip.</p><p>It didn’t faze her so much anymore. But the stares did bore into her back. The regal looking women of Slytherin were watching even more intently than the others, their faces sharp and their gowns elegant. Hermione flipped her hair and concentrated on Tom’s eyes.</p><p>They were as dark as the murky water of the sea in the middle of the night. They looked at her with a feral glint, his lightly curled hair falling elegantly into his face. He had a sharp perfection that should have made Hermione uneasy, should have made her feel unworthy. But through his eyes she saw his tainted soul, turned black like ink spilling over paper. She saw his flaws, his craving for affection that only fuelled his hate and anger, his mistrust in the world that had festered deep in his heart and very being over years of misuse.</p><p>The world had made him what he had been in her time and paired with the power that the young man in front of her possessed, it made for a deadly mix. Not for the first time Hermione asked herself if it wasn’t too late.</p><p>How cruel of fate to send her back in time just to arrive too late. It would destroy her but she would, as she vowed, take him with her and if it was with her last breath.</p><p>Together they talked with people, friends of Tom, his death eaters, which made Hermione nervous and her wand-hand twitch.</p><p>During those conversations Hermione usually stayed silent, although she did notice them looking at her a bit oddly. It was probably due to her being with Tom. What else could it have been?</p><p><br/>They eyes always slipped to their linked arms, their lips pressed together in a thin line. Dolohov even narrowed his eyes. Hermione didn’t like that man. He was the one she fought, or rather will fight, in the Ministry of magic. Nott of course was there too. He was one of the many death eaters.</p><p><br/>“Ronald Nott, was it?”, Hermione said smiling at the boy brightly. It was too much fun to see his eyes narrow.</p><p><br/>“Raymond.”, he replied coldly. But then his gaze changed and he looked at their linked arms, at the ring on her finger. His face became blank. Hermione watched him astonished. That had definitely been weird. Tom said something to the boy but Hermione didn’t listen. She continued watching, remembering the incident that had happened some time ago. Something was wrong with Nott.</p><p><br/>“I don’t like him.”, Hermione said to Tom, sipping on her drink, when the tall boy finally left them alone again.</p><p>Tom only nodded, his hand sliding down to hers and engulfing it. They were holding hands, Hermione realized and started to grin. How utterly absurd.</p><p><br/>“You know, I actually wanted to talk to you.”, Tom continued. She glanced at him, their hands still linked. His tightened his grip. He was nervous, Hermione realized, and wasn’t that just odd. Tom was never nervous.</p><p><br/>“About your plans after school…”, he continued.</p><p>Hermione froze. What was the meaning of this? Horrified she thought that maybe he wanted to recruit her. He wanted her to become a death eater. He wanted her to <em>kill</em> for him, to<em> serve</em> him. She would never, never in a thousand years. She would never kneel, never call him <em>my lord</em>.</p><p><br/>“I know you don’t really have a place to stay. You can live with me, I inherited a big house. There would be more than enough room for the both of us. And while we are deciding on what we want pursue as a career, we can work together. It is a…muggle house… but I am sure we can make it magical with a potions lab and so on…”</p><p><br/>He was rambling. Hermione blinked up at him, not really understanding. He wanted to live with her? He asked her to move in with him?</p><p><br/>“You want me to move in with you?”, she asked again, her words coming out slowly and deliberately. Had she missed something? Was there some kind of recruitment she would be agreeing to? He seemed to stiffen, his fingers pressing into her skin.</p><p><br/>“Yes. As I said you don’t have any other possibility. I am being nice here, Hermione.”, he said hauntingly. But his insinuation didn’t sting because Hermione knew he was only reflecting. She laughed quietly, realizing too late that it was the wrong thing to do. His face pulled into a cold mask.</p><p><br/>“I am not laughing at you Tom,” she quickly said. “I am just surprised. I didn’t know that was even possible in this time. For a woman and a man to live together, I mean.”</p><p><br/>“If that is something that concerns you, we can always get married.”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <em>What?</em>
</p><p><em><br/></em>“What?”</p><p><br/>Silence descended on them. Hermione’s mind stumbled to catch up with what was happening. <em>What?</em></p><p><br/>“I mean we get along well enough. It wouldn’t be the worst. And you are a woman Hermione, sooner or later you will have to marry.”, he said and now Hermione was starting to get angry.</p><p>Because this was utterly ridiculous. Tom had asked her to move in with him in the house that probably belonged to his Muggle family that he <em>killed</em> and now he was asking her to marry him. And he was treating it like a necessity.</p><p><br/>“Let’s get a few things straight Tom.”, she said, anger pulling at her insides. “I am a woman, you got that right. However, if I don’t want to marry, I don’t. If I don’t want to have children, I won’t. You aren’t better than me because you are a man.”, she said her words slowly and with heat behind her eyes. “I don’t care if it is the 1940s or the nineties.”</p><p><br/>“Maybe you are right, but you still have to live somewhere.”, he answered looking so utterly miserable suddenly that Hermione nearly felt bad for him. But alas only barely.</p><p><br/>“It was very nice offer, Tom.”, she continued,  “However, there a few things unsaid between us that have to be said before anything like that can happen. First I will marry for love, Tom, I will marry because the man I have chosen loves me and so do I him. I will marry because he is the most important human being for me and vice versa. I will marry when he would give up everything for me, when I would sacrifice everything for him. Only then and not because it is convenient.”, she said mockingly, “And I will marry when that man can pull himself together and risk his precious pride and lay everything down for me and not a second sooner. And if this man won’t do that for me then we are not made for each other. I have not fought in a war and will probably fight in it again to settle for anything less. So ask a bit more nicely next time.”, she said with anger bleeding into her tone.</p><p><br/>Tom turned to her, his eyes a dark sea of emotion.</p><p><br/>“I don’t understand why you are acting like this, Hermione. You are wearing my ring, nobody will touch you.”</p><p><br/>“How nice.”, Hermione answered hotly, the alcohol in her bloodstream sloshing angrily. “How utterly romantic, Tom. <em>You don’t have any other choice</em>”, she said mockingly “You always have choice, Tom. I don’t think that you understand what I expect you to give up for me, Tom. I am not sure you would do that.”</p><p><br/>“How do you know, what I would do for you, Hermione. You have no idea. I always look after what belongs to me and don’t make the mistake to think that you don’t, because you do. I will always find you. You can’t hide.”, Tom said with stormy eyes, his hand grabbing her arm. His fingers were digging into his arm nearly painfully.</p><p>Hermione wanted to scream out in frustration.</p><p><br/>“Don’t be ridiculous, I have hid from you once and I will do it again.”, horrified, Hermione slapped her hand over her mouth. They stared at each other in silence.</p><p><br/>“What”, Tom asked and for the first time he sounded unsure.</p><p><br/>Before Hermione could answer anything, she was saved by none other than Slughorn.</p><p>The Professor had sought them out more than one time, his eyes becoming more glazed over each time. He always carried a tumbler of what seemed to be Fire Whiskey but it could have been any strong alcoholic liquid. This time he nearly stumbled into Hermione who was only caught by Tom’s unrelenting grip.</p><p>The Headboy’s eyes were the only thing that betrayed his impatience. Their conversation hadn’t ended, Hermione knew, but they would come back to that later.</p><p>Hermione only giggled when Slughorn nearly tripped again and half draped himself over Tom, who now looked extremely uncomfortable. Maybe the alcohol was getting to her too? Gingerly she put her glass away. To be completely sloshed in front of the darkest wizard ever was still a little stretch for Hermione’s new found trust.</p><p><br/>“Ah, young love…”, Slughorn slurred and petted Tom on his shoulders after he had righted himself again.</p><p>Tom looked to be in pain. Hermione started laughing again and he threw her an angry glance, but much more playful than a minute ago. Hermione stared back and gave him a small smile. The slight relief on his face at them still being okay, made her smile even wider.</p><p><br/>“Why don’t you take the next dance with Hermione, Professor?”, Tom suddenly said, now grinning himself.</p><p>Hermione blanched, her smile frozen. Oh, that bastard. Slughorn was already nodding vigorously, the liquid in his glass nearly spilling over. Hermione was shaking her head.</p><p><br/>“Oh no, I couldn’t… I mean, I am not a good dancer.”, Hermione stuttered.</p><p><br/>“Don’t be absurd, Hermione, besides, Professor Slughorn is such a competent dance partner, it will be easy.”, Tom continued, his charm in full use. He smiled easily. Hermione glared and glared but he didn’t waver. His hand was splayed on her lower back and he gave her little push.</p><p><br/>“You have to excuse her, Professor, she is a bit shy.”</p><p><br/>“I am not shy!”, Hermione exclaimed exasperated.</p><p><br/>“Well, then I don’t see a problem.”, Tom said smugly.</p><p><br/>“I walked straight into that one, didn’t I?”, she muttered.</p><p><br/>“I would be so delighted, Miss Granger. Here”, Slughorn extended his arm.</p><p>Hermione searched her mind for an excuse but she came up blank. Hesitantly she accepted and let herself be dragged off by Slughorn. She threw a withering look over her shoulder but Tom was only grinning. What would she give to just hex the smile off his face.</p><p><br/>Slughorn was in fact as it turned out not a good dance partner, not like Tom had been. With the tall future dark lord it had been truly easy, he had held Hermione in a strong grip, his feet gliding over the dance floor.</p><p>Slughorn on the other hand stumbled through every step, going right when it was left and stepping on her toes like it was a sport. She would definitely not be able to walk anymore after this torture of a dance. After the first spin Hermione lost sight of Tom, his handsome face lost in the mass of dancing couples.</p><p><br/>“So, Miss Granger, any plans for after graduation?”, Slughorn asked after stepping on her toe again. Hermione suppressed a grimace.</p><p><br/>“Well, there are a lot of possible careers to choose from. I am interested in the rights of magical creatures…”</p><p><br/>“Nonsense”, Slughorn said, “I didn’t mean these kind of plans…”, he raised his eyebrows suggestively. “I meant a certain Slytherin headboy. I do hope I will get an invitation rather sooner than later.”</p><p><br/>This time it was Hermione who stumbled.</p><p><br/>“Excuse me, Professor, but you can’t be serious?”, she managed to grit out. What was it with everyone and their interest in her love life?</p><p><br/>“Tom is a true catch, Miss Granger, you can count yourself lucky. I am sure he will rise to do great things.”, Slughorn continued like he hadn’t heard her.</p><p><br/>“I am sure that I am a great catch.”, Hermione said with indignation.</p><p><br/>“Sure, sure”, Slughorn said. “But that boy is the most promising that has attended my classes in all my life.”</p><p><br/>“I am sure, Professor. Tom can do great things.”, Hermione said, suddenly sad.</p><p>He was truly talented but talent came with responsibility to not abuse the power that had been given to the person. Well, that train left the station like a hippogriff flying after a ferret. Hermione grinned at her own analogy.</p><p>Besides everything that had happened, Hermione hoped that Ferret boy was still alive. Draco did not deserve to die, no matter what he did.</p><p><br/>“Yes, he is one of the most sought after men in Hogwarts, you must know. Of course, Mr Malfoy is the still number one with that kind of fortune but Tom has a certain aura, if I may say so, that can even over shadow all the money in the world.”</p><p><br/>Slughorn was fan-girling, Hermione thought to herself while staring over the left shoulder of her Professor.</p><p><br/>“I have never seen him take an interest in any girl.”, Slughorn continued, not noticing that Hermione has closed off.</p><p> <br/>“Yes, well, I don’t think many girls could have handled him.”, Hermione muttered. She was scanning the crowd for Tom. Where was he, when she needed him? Slughorns hand was a bit too low for her comfort.</p><p><br/>“Nonsense, Miss Granger, I mean no offence but I am sure there would be more than enough women able and happy to take over that task.”</p><p><br/>Hermione glanced at her Professor again. What an idiot.</p><p><br/>“With great power comes the ability to abuse it, Professor.”, Hermione said, anger lacing her tone. “The world isn’t as simple as one would sometimes think. Everybody plays a role, a mask they wear in public. Some more so than others.”</p><p><br/>“Erm”, Slughorn said, clearly not understanding what Hermione was saying. “Very insightful, Miss Granger. Back to Tom, don’t you think that he will be Minister of Magic with a decade.”</p><p><br/>“Do you really believe that Tom would pursue a career in the Ministry, Professor?”, Hermione asked.</p><p><br/>“Well, of course”, Slughorn answered. He seemed a bit more sober now.</p><p><br/>“Can you really imagine Tom to sit at a desk, under the command of hundreds of superiors and wait patiently to rise in rank?”</p><p><br/>Slughorn looked at Hermione as if he was seeing her for the first time. His eyes were a bit clearer.</p><p><br/>“I guess it would be very Tom if he would look for a short cut.”, the man said slowly as if realizing something about his favourite student that he had never considered.</p><p><br/>“And if there isn’t one?”, Hermione said. The finial notes of the waltz they had been dancing to rang through the air. Slughorn let his arms sink and watched the student in front of him curiously.</p><p><br/>“I have to say, Miss Granger, you manage to surprise me every time again. I have to admit, you are very well placed in Slytherin but I can assure you that there is no need to worry over Tom. He will find his way.”</p><p><br/>Hermione couldn’t help herself, she snorted. Yes, Slughorn was right, Tom would find a way, which was a very good reason to worry.</p><p><br/>“To find a short cut in the Ministry Tom would have to have at least the Order of Merlin first class.”, Hermione said more to herself than anything.</p><p>She was still looking over the many people to find Tom. She saw men in dark dress robes and women in glittering dresses. She saw laughter, she saw couples, she saw people dancing and she saw alcohol being drunk in abundance. The preasure of so many people pressed down on her. </p><p><br/>So many people, it made Hermione suddenly uncomfortable, made her want to scream at them to run away because so many people would attract the death eaters, didn’t they know? The last time she had seen so many were at the battle and at Fleur’s wedding.</p><p><br/>She desperately wanted to apparate away to safety. Her fingers twitched. She had to find Tom, he always managed to calm her down, no matter how ironic that was. Where was he?</p><p><br/>“Are you quiet alright, Miss Granger?”</p><p><br/>Startled, Hermione turned to her Professor who was watching her with slight worry in his eyes.</p><p><br/>“Yes, just looking for Tom, Sir.”</p><p><br/>“Oh well, I am sure you will find him, one of his friends is headed in you direction.”</p><p><br/>Hermione glanced in the direction Slughorn was pointing. Abraxas Malfoy was easily spotted in the crowed due to his white blond hair and pointy features.</p><p>His pale eyes were fixed on Hermione, not betraying any emotion but she was sure that he despised her, just like his grandson and son. Abraxas, the great heir to the Malfoy name. Hermione couldn’t say that she held any kind of love for the man, his eyes had already taken on the glint of the death eaters, the small measure of complete coldness evident in the paleness and dimness of his eyes.</p><p>Hermione felt a pang of sadness for him and all the others that had been corrupted by Tom.</p><p>Their souls, may they already have been tainted and crippled, had sought out the power and darkness of their leader. Their upbringing as Purebloods had made them susceptible to exactly this kind of thing. The dark fire that was Tom’s soul had burned them and stained them, never to be cleaned again.</p><p><br/>“Professor Slughorn, Miss Granger.”, Abraxas bowed politely when he finally reached the pair, his smile easy but practiced and forces.</p><p>Hermione was not impressed. <br/>“Abraxas”, she said condescendingly. His eyes flashed with anger at her use of his first name, evidently thinking that he deserved more respect.</p><p>If he knew, Hermione thought, what his future heirs looked like under the thumb of his precious Dark Lord, how they had to pay for his sins and decisions.</p><p>She remembered Draco’s drawn out looks in sixth year. So much pain, even for those who were close to the Dark Lord, had been endured by generations and it all led back to these men, only students and them making decisions that they were too young to ever make.</p><p><br/>“Tom send me to steal Miss Granger away from you, Professor.”, Abraxas said with a smile to his Professor.</p><p>Slughorn nodded vigorously, fooled by one of his favoured students.</p><p><br/>“Yes, yes, if I had such a lovely date, then I wouldn’t want to let her wander off, too.”, Slughorn laughed, not noticing the clench of Abraxas jaw.</p><p>Hermione only smiled at the Malfoy in front of her, revelling in his discomfort.</p><p><br/>“Oh, well, I won’t stand in the way of young love.”, the Professor said giggling and pushed Hermione in Abraxas direction who instinctively grabbed her arm. A bit too forcefully if Hermione had to be honest, but she only smiled again.</p><p><br/>“Yes…”, the Malfoy heir said “Young love, I am sure.”, Hermione didn’t miss the venom in his voice but Slughorn had already wandered off. For a beat they just stood at the edge of the dance floor, watching each other, his pale eyes boring into her brown ones.</p><p><br/>“Tom sent me”, Abraxas said, disdain in his voice.</p><p>Hermione only hummed, not wanting to say anything in response. The preasure was still on her chest and she was desperately trying to reign in her horror and fear. What a stupid time to have a panic attack. She couldn’t break down while in the deathly grip of Abraxas Malfoy. Who knew what he would do.</p><p>Without waiting for her to actually say anything, least of all to voice her actual acquiescence to go to Tom, Abraxas pulled her along, the many people parting for him to pass.</p><p><br/>“Why are you so quiet, normally you always have something to say.”, Abraxas said with a sneer while the crowd was slowly thinning out.</p><p>The voices became less like an oppressing weight and more discernible. Hermione was still struggling to follow the boy in front of her, his words only piercing through the fog that had settled over her mind with difficulties.</p><p><br/>“Maybe, I just don’t see you worth of my words.”, Hermione said, her voice steadier than she felt. <em>Breath in, breath out</em>…</p><p>The music and the voices were slowly fading.</p><p>They had left the ball, the path under her high heeled shoes was earthy and slightly damp. The dark trees of the forbidden forest rose from the ground next to her like dark needles reaching for the sky. The smell of the night and the nature next to her helped to calm her nerves.</p><p><br/>“I expected better from you, Hermione.”</p><p><br/>“Didn’t take you for one to like being verbally executed. But I won’s shame you for your preferences, no matter how odd.”, Hermine said grinning.</p><p>Her anxiety was fading, her senses were returning to their normal clarity. Slowly everything seemed sharper, dots were connected and her mind wasn’t sluggish anymore. Where were they? Where were they going? It smelled like danger and Adrenalin kicked in. Abraxas grip tightened.</p><p><br/>“I bet Tom is still at the ball, isn’t he?”, Hermione said with a tired voice. Something like this had to happen sooner or later.</p><p><br/>Abraxas seemed taken aback that Hermione had figured it out. He let her go and took a step back, apprehension in his eyes. Hermione deduced that his task had been to lead her here without her noticing anything and his friends would probably take her by surprise. She wasn’t supposed to have time to react and fight back.</p><p><br/>“He certainly is.”, a voice from behind her sneered at her. Hermione heard shuffling and footsteps. Edger Avery. Of course…</p><p><br/>That made two. Hermione slowly turned. With horror she counted.</p><p>Six students stood before her, masked and clad in black, their robes billowing in the suddenly cold wind.</p><p>Their faces were obscured, leaving them to look like creatures of pure darkness, monsters that thrived off of pain. The masks, Hermione realised with cold trepidation, were familiar. She had seen them numerous times. Death eater masks, dark and horrifying.</p><p><br/>Six against one, Hermione felt anxiety spike in her blood. That weren’t good odds. She took a few steps back, so that her back wasn’t to any of the boys. Her face was a perfect mask of coldness and didn’t betray any emotion she was feeling as she faced the faceless.</p><p><br/>“Six boys against one girl. From what I have seen in classes, I still think you under prepared, Avery.”, she said casually.</p><p>The boy who had spoken took a step towards her, his wand firmly in his hand. She hadn’t pulled hers and it made the young Deatheaters nervous. Why hadn’t she pulled her only defence? It meant that she wasn’t half as scared as they had hoped.</p><p><br/>“I must say, I like the mask, I believe it truly is an upgrade from you face. I bet you future wife will beg you to wear it more often”, Hermione taunted, her hands clenching to fists with the tension that had taken hold of her body.</p><p><br/>The spell shot out of Avery’s wand with a blood red light, hurtling towards Hermione where a green shield absorbed the energy. Silence rang through the air. Hermione raised her eyebrow. Nonverbal and wandless magic was out of their league and they knew it.</p><p>Hermione had a lot of practise. Ironically with the boys that stood in front of her or rather their future selves.</p><p><br/>“Didn’t get enough last time, Avery? How utterly cowardly to take your friends with you because you can’t cope with me on your own.”</p><p><br/>“You have no idea who you are talking to.”, one of the boys said, his voice cold and cruel. It was the voice of a death eater.</p><p><br/>“Oh, I think, I have a better idea than you think.”, she retorted.</p><p><br/>The boy that had spoken raised his wand.</p><p><br/>“I will make you regret every word, bitch. <em>Crucio</em>”.</p><p><br/>In a flash Hermione’s wand was in her hands, a forceful shield in front of her. The spell bounced off and landed somewhere in the ground. <br/>The death eaters eyed her wand with disdain. She held it firmly in her hand, the magic crackling around her.</p><p><br/>“Oh, you think I should be scared by your use of an Unforgivable? Don’t worry, I have seen them all up close.”, she swished her wand through the air and the mask that had obscured the faces of the students vanished into thin air.</p><p><br/>Avery, Malfoy, Lestrange, Yaxley, Dolohov and Rosier.</p><p><br/>“Interesting”, Hermione commented. They didn’t seem very confident now that their masks were gone.</p><p><br/>“We are still more than you Mudblood, before the end of this night you will be begging for death.”</p><p><br/>“Does Tom know where you are?”, Hermione said, ignoring the stupid words of the teenagers in front of her. The air suddenly shifted to slightly afraid at the mention of Tom’s name.</p><p><br/>“I don’t think he does.”, Hermione mused. Avery hissed at her. </p><p><br/>“He will thank us that we have rid him of the filth that you are.”</p><p><br/>“I am sure. How does it feel that this filth can probably kill you wandlessly? Does it make you insecure, Avery? Does it make you sad?”, Hermione smiled cruelly.</p><p><br/>The boy finally seemed to snap. Red and, to Hermione’s shock, green flashed through the night while she dove away, trying to evade the spells directed at her. Her wand felt alive in her hand, waiting to unleash her magic.</p><p><br/>“<em>Melofors</em>”, Hermione cried, her wand directed at the nearest boy.</p><p>His head turned into a big, orange pumpkin with a cut out face. Very Halloween-y Hermione decided before ducking again and raising another strong shield.</p><p>The death eater that she had hit with her spell was tumbling and crashing into his friends with strange inhuman sounds came from the dark mouth with jagged teeth. It sounded like screams of confusion and fear.</p><p>It made everybody and everything descend into chaos. Hermione saw some of the students stop to glance at their pumpkin colleague.</p><p>Apparently they weren’t familiar with that particular hex. Hermione took advantage of their confusion and hexed another one with a very powerful slicing hex that ripped through the boys shield and made a deep cut in his robes. Blood seeped through them and he bit out a strangled noise but Hermione was sure that the wound wasn’t fatal. Despite their cruelness, future atrocities and their cowardness at six of them going against one, she really didn’t want to kill anyone.</p><p>She had seen enough death in her life and she would be damned if she sunk to the level of these vile men.</p><p>Her heels dug into the ground as she ran, ducking and trying to evade various hexes thrown her way. She heard Edger screaming something.</p><p>The words <em>bitch </em>and<em> Mudblood </em>rang through the air around her, echoing inside of her head. The looming dark forest next to her looked like a silent sanctuary. The deep darkness promising to swallow her and to never let her out again. Her mind flashed with memories.</p><p><br/>Voldemort would be in the woods, waiting for Harry to die. Harry, her best friends that had been raised to die. Tears pricked her eyes.</p><p><br/>Death eaters were on her heels, her magic fed off of her fear, of the pure Adrenalin that cursed through her blood. Spells hit the ground next to her, mud splattering her beautiful dress.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <em>The disgraced princess, the Mudblood, the survivor.</em>
</p><p><em><br/></em> It was as if her wand had a mind of its own, guiding Hermione’s movements.</p><p><em>Incarcerous, Incedio Tria, Locomotor Wibbly and Locomotor Mortis…</em> more and more spells flashed through her brain, some of the vegetation around her lighting up in flames, their red glow lightning her way.</p><p>She heard people fall, heard some on scream but she didn’t care she ran and ran, fear her constant companion and egging her on.</p><p>There were too many, Hermione’s shields were getting weaker, the onslaught of spells, hexes and curses, most of them dark and powerful, made them waver and crack.</p><p>There were so many firing at her. Trees whipped past her, she dug in her heel and slithered over the muddy ground, turning in one motion, her hand grazing the mud under her soles. She cried out an <em>Oppugno</em> pointing at the many branches that hung low, nearly touching the ground.</p><p>The death eater, Rosier, that had been the closest to her, was slapped in the face by thick branches throwing him to the ground and rendering him immobile for a few seconds. However, Abraxas was next and he swished his long wand through the air and Everte Statum hitting her square in the chest, her shield had not been able to hold any longer.</p><p>The pale face of the Malfoy enlightened by the reddish glow of the spell, was the last thing Hermione saw before her whole body was propelled backwards, her back hitting a tree or the ground forcefully.</p><p>The air was nocked straight out of her and she struggled desperately for a few moments to breathe again. Surly she must have broken something, her whole body ached. Ignoring everything, even the warm tickle of blood that was running down the side of her face, Hermione pushed herself away and just in time too.</p><p>Another spell hit the place she just had been. She rolled award, dirt covering her and mixing with the blood that was still running. <em>Mudblood</em>, how fitting.</p><p><br/>“<em>Confundus</em>”, Hermione cried out, pointing her hand at Rosier that had finally straightened again just to be hit by her wandless spell again and falling to the ground once more. Her wand? Where was her wand? The spell without a wand had been rather weak.</p><p><br/>“<em>Crucio”</em>, came the voice of Edger Avery and this time it hit her. Piercing pain flashed through her whole body, even if it was oddly familiar.</p><p>She had endured this and she would again. It felt like her skin was being torn open, she didn’t know the meaning of time or space anymore, there was only pain and it was never ending. It was a thousand needles digging into her flesh, ripping it open. It numbed her mind until only pain remained and everything else vanished.</p><p><br/>After what seemed like an eternity it was suddenly over, only a dull throb pushing through her body and making her shiver. She tasted blood in her mouth, the coppery taste making her nauseated. Her fingers had dug into the ground, her cheek lay on the cold and damp grass, it made her mind clearer, it grounded her.</p><p><br/>“That was unnecessary long, Edger.”</p><p><br/>“The bitch deserved it, Abraxas, and you know it.”</p><p><br/>“I didn’t say, she didn’t. Filthy Mudblood. But I have to hand it to her, you weren’t able to stand even ten seconds under Tom’s Cruciatus, and she is still alive after a full minute.”</p><p><br/>Hermione dragged air into her lungs. Everything burned, she didn’t understand what the others were saying. Her wand? She had to get her wand. She closed her eyes, trying not to heave. She had to collect her magic, to summon her wand.</p><p>The instincts born out of years of constant danger and war were thrumming through her body and acting even without her mind being fully aware.</p><p><br/>He magic was still there, thank god, it was a warm flash of energy inside of her, making her instantly feel better.</p><p><em>Accio</em>.</p><p>Her wand flew through the air landing in her hand that she had stretched into the air with one very painful motion, while she rolled and heaved herself up. They boys were startled out of their conversation, shock clear on their face. Blood was running out of her mouth and down her face. Hermione grinned, with her wand she was feeling much better.</p><p><br/>“Will you look at that, the Mudblood has some fight in her”, Edger sneered, raising his own wand.</p><p><br/>Hermione was just about to retort something before the whole area was suddenly silent. It was as if a blanket of fear and pure darkness had settled over them. The students before her cried out in pain and fell to their knees, the weight pressing them down.</p><p>Their screams echoed through the dark forest and somehow seeing their pain was worse than being the one in pain. Hermione’s whole body trembled.</p><p><br/>The war was flashing before her eyes. Would the pain never stop following her?</p><p>The screams ripped through her. The dark power that was suffocating the whole forest caressed her skin as if it was concerned for her, the ring on her finger tingled with warm magic.</p><p>Tom.</p><p>Hermione knew instinctively even before he stepped out of the darkness of the trees. His eyes were darker than the night around them, his pale face shining in the gleam of the moon. He looked like a fallen angel with dark wings, come to avenge her.</p><p>Only the cold fury in his eyes betrayed his anger. The screams were still ringing through the darkness of the forest, ringing through her and making her tremble even more. Yes, she hated the men before her, even more so now than she did before traveling back in time but no one, no matter how vile, deserved that kind of pain.</p><p><br/>“Stop”, Hermione cried, noticing for the first time that her hands were pressing against her ears, trying to block the screams out.</p><p>The picture of Voldemort and his followers flashing before her, she smelled the burning stones of Hogwarts again, could see one of her friend being eaten by a giant spider again and it made her sick to her very core. She had seen enough suffering.</p><p><br/>Tom snapped his head to her, seeing her trying not to fall over. The weight that had pressed down on all of them, lifted and the piercing screams gave way for silence that was only breached by small groans coming from the young Deatheaters that were lying on the ground clutching at themselves.</p><p><br/>Hermione could hear her own breaths again, calming her down, the horror memories slowly fading again. Tom’s hand were cold but reassuring when he finally reached her and she didn’t care that she was a mess, that her hair was wild and dirty or that her dress was torn and covered in mud. She was a Mudblood, the disgraced Gryffindor Princess and she carried her title with pride.</p><p>Her head swam, maybe she had a concussion?</p><p>For the first time Hermione noticed that someone else had come with Tom. Raymond Nott, he had not been one of her attackers. He eyed her with a gleam in his eyes that made Hermione more uncomfortable than even Edger and his friends. However, Hermione was too preoccupied to care and maybe to analyse Raymond’s strange behaviour more.</p><p>“I will kill them all and I will make them suffer for what they did to you, Hermione”, Tom whispered, his voice dark and rasping. He sounded like <em>he</em> had been the one crying and screaming.</p><p><br/>The ring on her finger was still thrumming with magic.</p><p>Tom’s fingers dug into her arms, his eyes roving over her face and body, taking in her wounds. Slowly, hands trembling, he raised his hand to her face, his fingers brushing her muddy cheek. His eyes though were what captured Hermione.</p><p>Never had she seen someone look at her with such tenderness and love in their eyes. She saw his deep concern and anguish over her wounds and she saw his fury at the men who had inflicted them on her.</p><p>His fingers brushed over her wounds making Hermione flinch when the searing pain finally reached her but she also felt the warm tickle of healing magic that rushed through her. It was enough to take away the worst of the pain. <br/><br/>“Kneel”, Tom spoke with total coldness, turning away from Hermione but keeping her pressed to his chest, his arms securing her to him.</p><p>Tom didn’t wait for the boys to heave themselves upwards, it was as if they were puppets on strings and their master was commanding them. All of them were kneeling, their heads bowed within seconds, their groans silenced.</p><p><br/>“Edger Avery, I was inclined to overlook you transgression the first time. I realize now that I shouldn’t have. You dared to touch something that belongs to me. Tonight you touched Hermione, made her scream and for that you shall pay.”, he said his tone colder than the frostiest and darkest winter night.  “You shall die the most painful way.”, Tom said, his tone final.</p><p><br/>“No”, Hermione said, pushing away from Tom, his arms tightening around her, not letting her go. “Nobody dies tonight.”, she continued and ripped herself away.<br/>The silence that settled over them was deafening.</p><p><br/>“Hermione”, Tom hissed. “He <em>hurt</em> you, I can’t let someone like that live to see the sunrise.”</p><p><br/>“I was hurt often enough in my life, you would have to kill most of wizarding Britain to avenge me.”</p><p><br/>“Then so be it”, Tom hissed, his magic crackling around them. In the back of her mind, Hermione wondered at the sheer power that was coming off of him.</p><p>There was so much potential in this young man who would live to destroy himself. Between losing his mind over splitting his soul seven times and being killed and resurrected, Voldemort had made some crucial mistakes in his life.</p><p>“No”, Hermione said again, feeling herself sway. “There is always a way, a choice.”</p><p><br/>“They touched what is mine”, Tom said, reaching for her. “Don’t you see Hermione? I am willing to kill for you. To kill anyone who would come between us, to do anything for you. We are meant to be together, together we can achieve greatness.”</p><p><br/>“Killing for you is not something special. I can name at least a hundred names that will find their end at your hand. Even now your hands are already stained red. Don’t think that I don’t know about Myrtle or about your father. I know why you are suddenly in the possession of a muggle house.”</p><p><br/>Tom flinched back, his eyes incredulous. Hermione only laughed and took another step back. She wouldn’t let Tom kill for her tonight. She knew it in her bones, this was their turning point. Their lives balanced on a knife and no one could say which way it would tip.</p><p><br/>“How”, Tom whispered.</p><p><br/>“Why do you think I was on the run for a year, what do you think I was looking for during that time?”, Hermione asked, “I was looking for Horcrxues, Tom. Your diary? Destroyed in my second year. Your ring? Also destroyed. And many others. I destroyed them and I would have, I still would, kill you, Tom. I can’t let you go down the same path again. I won’t choose you side, no matter how much I love you. I will be there on every turn, fighting against you.”, she took another step back, now nearly having reached Abraxas and Edger.</p><p><br/>“So I am not asking you to kill for me, I am asking you to show mercy for me.”, she said, her tone final. With that she tuned and fled the scene.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Under normal circumstances Hermione wanted to believe that she was quite alert and mindful of her surroundings.</p><p>It was one of the very few benefits of growing up during a pre-war time and then fighting in said war. It had made her very attentive, always on the lookout for anything dangerous. These days she barely entered a room without at least a little bit of caution.</p><p>Her sleep had become very light and she was roused by every small noise, may it only be one of the girls shifting in their sleep or an owl hooting in the night.</p><p>She guessed the days in the tent with the other two boys and being on the run would not leave her very soon. She would probably never be a deep sleeper anymore.</p><p><br/>But alas, it had become, in a way, something of a sixth sense. Some would say it was just that, a natural ability, that the three of them, the Golden Trio, had become so good at sensing danger that sometimes they just knew when something had been about to happen.</p><p>Some people would say it was their very own kind of <em>magic</em>. Hermione knew better of course. After always being on guard for most of their lives, their subconscious picked up on things that normal people wouldn’t.</p><p>Maybe it was just the movement in the corner of your eye or it was the lightly bent branches in the forest that indicated someone had been along that way, Hermione couldn’t say what exactly gave it away but Harry and her, more so than Ron, had always just known when danger was ahead. It had always come in handy and it was something that Hermione had come to rely on.</p><p>Maybe it had been their own magic that had grown to the occasion, so to say. Maybe they had really developed a kind of power that was akin to the one of a seer. Hermione’s skin always tingled in a very specific way when danger was ahead, it was as if a shiver ran down her spine, a preasure in her head and a silence in her mind.</p><p>So she blamed it on her teary eyes, even though they had been dry in that very instant but bloodshot and bleary none the less, and on her generally being preoccupied. Who would have thought that something was about to happen in Hogwarts anyway? It was, after all, still the safest place to be. Besides, who would go after an unassuming schoolgirl?</p><p>All in all, she blamed Tom, because Hermione normally wouldn’t have wandered the castle so early in the morning, the sun just peeking over the mountain tops and she wouldn’t have left the walls off the castle to feel the frosty air on her skin.</p><p>No, if it weren’t for Tom Riddle and her stupid heart and the whole ordeal of the Halloween ball, she never would have been so damn careless.</p><p>But most importantly she blamed herself.</p><p>~</p><p>She landed somewhere dirty, she just knew.</p><p>Dust was clinging to her nostrils and making her cough violently. She felt the grime stick to her hand and lips, lips that had cracked from lack of water and the dryness that seemed to course through her.</p><p>Her lungs expanded painfully with every breath she took, her muscles burning. All in all, she had felt better but also worse in her life.</p><p>Her hair was tickling her neck where it half-heartedly stuck to her skin that was semidry. Was it blood or sweat? Hermione couldn’t be sure but there was a slight pounding in her head so maybe she had hit her head. Therefore it could be blood. In Hermione’s life it usually was blood.</p><p><br/>He lips, she realized were lightly touching something hard and cool… the ground.</p><p>She was bent forward, she realized, her sense of space and time returning. She ripped her eyes open just to be greeted by a deafening darkness. A blindfold, she realized as senses slowly came back to her and her initial panic had subdued. She could feel the light weight that had settled over her eyes.</p><p><br/>It was as if her body and mind were crawling back to her, slowly everything returned. Her head continued to pound and her blood was rushing in her ears. At least she still had enough blood for it to be rushing, she thought grimly.</p><p>She just hoped that she wasn’t dead.</p><p>With the first rational thought slithering through her tired and tilted mind, her fingers went straight for her wand but her hand and arm was met with resistance.</p><p>She was bound.</p><p>The restraints were digging into her skin and the pain helped her focus. Trying to not draw the attention of people that could be in the same space as her, she tried to fight against the bounds.</p><p>It was done by magic, she soon realized. There wasn’t even the slightest wiggle room, not even for her to grab her wand that had to be in her pocket. Unless the people that took her, also took her wand. A numb kind of panic washed through her when she thought of her being wandless and therefore defenceless.</p><p>She racked her memory but the last thing she actually remembered was walking over the barley lit grounds of Hogwarts and letting the coldness of the morning seep into her clothes and bones. Then there had been… something… she had probably been hit by a stunning spell or something like that.</p><p>Well, all she knew that she woke up here, wherever that was and had apparently been knocked out for some time judging by the stiffness of her muscles. <br/>She didn’t know who, why or where.</p><p><br/>Desperately, she tried to strain against her bounds once again but they were tight and already cutting into her flesh, making her hiss in pain when they moved over the already disturbed flesh. It burned.</p><p><br/>She let the pain wash through her.</p><p><br/>Where had she landed herself this time, she wondered? Her whole body just felt so sore.</p><p><br/>Panic began to seep into her consciousness again, making her thoughts jumbled. She didn’t know where she was, who took her or why. She was utterly helpless. Not even in the war had she ever felt like this. Her body began to tremble, her heart started to pound in her chest. She had to get out, horror images of the last battle in Hogwarts flashed before her in the darkness. The uncertainty of what lay beyond her blindness was making everything so much worse.</p><p>“So she has finally woke”, a voice boomed, making her recoil at the sudden onslaught of sound.</p><p>She definitely didn’t recognize that voice. Slowly she tried to turn or right herself, she was still unsure as to where up and down really was.</p><p>The ground touching her lips was helping a bit. Her muscles pulled and protested. A grunt of pain left her lips without her permission and sweat beaded along her skin.</p><p>Suddenly dim light flooded her sight as the weight of the fabric that had been her blindfold vanished.</p><p>Like little needles pricking her eyes, the rays of light mercilessly invaded her sight until her eyes finally adjusted, leaving her with an even worse headache. Dust was clinging to her lashes and made her eyes itch.</p><p>She saw the little particles reflect the gloomy light that came from the high windows on the other far end of the room she appeared to be in. It stretched before her, a very pretty room, it reminded her of the Malfoy manor and wasn’t that just <em>lovely</em>.</p><p>That mental picture brought a whole other onslaught of memories that Hermione would rather not have. Her vision was still a bit off and tilted, her brain scrambling to adjust to reality again.</p><p>Her nose itched at the dust clinging to her nostrils, making her want to sneeze. An earthy scent, mixed with something she couldn’t quiet place, washed through her. She frowned.</p><p>Her eyes danced across the space in front of her, everything was very wooden and gloomy, the ceiling was high and the walls ornamented with beautiful magical paintings. She saw a small dragon blinking at her before crawling towards the ceiling.</p><p>How peculiar but none the less fascinating. Her guess was that she would have enjoyed the aesthetics of this… room… if it had been any other circumstance.</p><p>Next, she glanced at the windows. Was there any chance that she could haul herself out of them? Maybe the glass wasn’t magically reinforced, meaning that her captor wasn’t very well versed in the art of kidnapping. Then again maybe the view was simply an enchantment and beyond lay a fall off a hundred meters. She had no way of knowing but she would keep it in mind as a last resort.</p><p>“Is she stupid or why won’t she answer? Are you sure we got the right one?”, the same voice from before said, this time a lot quieter.</p><p>Hermione finally focused on the other people in the room.</p><p>The first one was a blond man of middle height and with hair that looked a bit like hers. Very bushy and curly. <em>Poor guy</em>, Hermione couldn’t help but feel for him even if he very probably was the one who had kidnapped her or at least the one behind it.</p><p><br/>That man had a very roughish kind of handsomeness about himself, Hermione noticed. From the way he was casually leaning against a long dark desk to his hands being in his pockets, showing that he hadn’t even deigned her dangerous enough to pull out his wand. Something about him tickled her memory.</p><p>The desk looked just as brittle as the rest of the room. It looked like it had stood here too long a time and at slowly faded away. It was a wonder that it didn’t break under the weight of the man.</p><p>Another one was standing in her line of vision. She had to turn her head a bit to get a better look at him, her face scratching over the rough surface of the floor. This man, this boy, she knew. Raymond Nott, she shouldn’t have been surprised to see her school mate standing in the middle of the room but somehow she was.</p><p>He looked quite pale, Hermione noted, he didn’t seem at ease, not like the other one. Maybe he wanted to be here as much as she.</p><p>“I am very sure, that is Hermione Granger.”, Nott said, his voice sounding weak. Well, that was odd. <em>Not cut out for being a death eater, are you? </em>Hermione thought to herself not without malice.</p><p>“I thought you would be prettier”, the blond man said, cocking his head to the side.</p><p>Who was he? As if he had heard her thoughts, he continued, “If I may introduce myself, Gellert Grindelwald.”, the man, Grindelwald, finally said while smirking at her.</p><p>She didn’t even bat eye which in turn seemed to antagonize the dark wizard in front of her a bit. His eyes flashed with a kind of anger only men with superior complex had. Hermione wanted to roll her eyes. Maybe something was wrong with her and she was some kind of danger magnet.</p><p>“Maybe I have to loosen your tongue a bit”, the blond man said as he pushed himself off the desk that wobbled dangerously and slowly pulled out his wand.</p><p><em>The elder wand</em>, Hermione instantly realized, her eyes glued to the smooth wooden stick.</p><p>She had seen the oddly shaped wand in the hands of her former headmaster and afterwards in Voldemort’s hands which had truly been a terrifying sight.</p><p>He was a bit taller than anticipated or maybe it was his impressing magic that seemed to seep out of his powerful wand and evade the space around them that made him seem more impressive than he really was.</p><p>“Gellert Grindelwald”, she said her voice raspy and not sounding very intimidating.</p><p>She had wanted to go for a dark whisper but her throat was parched and scratchy.</p><p>“Somehow I thought you had better things to do than kidnap school girls. But alas, apparently I was wrong.”, she waited a beat to let her words sink in while trying to right herself into a sitting position.</p><p>She didn’t really look gracious while doing that but she didn’t care, her head was still pounding and she wanted to face her enemy head on.</p><p>“Now, may I inquire the reason of my forced stay in your company?”, Hermione said with an easy smile and panting from the strain of righting herself.</p><p>Everything was shaking a bit but she seemed stable enough. The panicked feeling from before had gone away at her finally knowing who, what and hopefully soon why. Now, only a slight feeling of excitement and eagerness to escape remained. A curse that had been left her from the war.</p><p>She had spent most of her life on the run or in an adventure. The adjustment after the war, returning to a normal life, left her empty and unfeeling. Only with Tom did she feel like a human again. With Tom and apparently when kidnapped by Grindelwald.</p><p>“Ah, so she talks.”, the man said, again with an small smile oozing confidence.</p><p>Hermione guessed that it would have unnerved many other people. People that hadn’t fought in a war and hadn’t risked their lives on a daily basis. She, on the other hand, only returned his smile with a grin. Too often had she been on the verge of death, staring into his black soulless eyes, to be afraid now.</p><p><br/>“Some say she talks too much”, she hissed.</p><p><br/>“Very well, Miss Granger, I will indulge you in my reasons for you being here.”, Grindelwald flicked his hand through the air.</p><p>Somehow he was a lot more eccentric than Hermione could ever have thought.</p><p>“You know it is hard to gain power, the path is long and full of traps. It is endless and steep and only the best of the best dare to take the steps of greatness.”</p><p><br/>Hermione wanted to roll her eyes, again.</p><p><br/>“You have to have… allies, friends and people who stand behind you and support your every move. Sometimes, just sharing the same believes just doesn’t cut it, some people need more… nudging. Just like the dear Nott family over here.”</p><p><br/>With gracious strides Gridelwald approached Raymond Nott who seemed a little green in the face. The bony hand of the dark wizard landed on the boy’s shoulder and curled around it in a very strange gesture. One that didn’t seem friendly at all. So Nott wasn’t really here because he wanted to be.</p><p><br/>“So, the very inventive man I am, I came up with a plan. Because what do families value more, especially those of pure blood than their precious pureblooded wives and mothers?”, at this Grindelwald let out a cackle.</p><p>His blood red lips stretched into a cruel grin, his white teeth showing and glinting in the dim light. He looked truly crazy. The elder wand was dangling from his hand, but his long fingers curled around it in a possessive way. The crazy glint in his eyes made Hermione uneasy.</p><p><br/>“So you did what?”, she said, trying to shake the strange eyes of Gellert Grindelwald. “Let me guess, you took them custody and use them to blackmail the families.”</p><p>“Ah quite clever, Miss Granger, I would even be a little impressed.”, he said as he took a step to one of the high windows.</p><p><em>Strange</em>, Hermione thought, she had never read about that in history books. Then again, Purebloods always have been outstandingly private with their affairs and she guessed having their wives robbed and taken wasn’t something they wanted everyone to know. Besides, they probably got them all back.</p><p>“Well, that is quite funny”, Hermione said, smiling. “You see, neither am I a Pureblood nor am I anybody’s wife. In fact I am, as you call it, a Mudblood. I think you really got the wrong girl.”</p><p>“Now, now, Miss Granger, not so hasty.”, Grindelwald replied. “I have one or two younger spies in Hogwarts but no one of importance, unfortunately.”</p><p>“Oh I am sure you want to know what Albus Dumbledore is up to.”, Hermione grinned at the other wizard.</p><p>Grindelwald seemed to flinch at the name of her beloved headmaster.</p><p><br/>“That old fool is of no consequence to me.”, he said offhandedly.</p><p>“Oh please, you are basically the same age so don’t go calling him <em>old</em>.”, Hermione said.</p><p>“You have no idea, girl.”, Gellert answered, his easy façade finally cracking.</p><p>“Oh, I think I know better than you might think. Weren’t you and Albus’ neighbours?”, she leaned forward, her eyes staring Grindelwald down who seemed to have frozen. “until this day you still don’t know who killed Ariana, don’t you?”</p><p>The pain was instant and excruciating. She hadn’t even seen him raise his wand or say any words but the pain was there and it was very real.</p><p>Her whole body was on fire, her bones felt like they were splitting in a thousand pieces and rearranging themselves. Fire was crashing over her like waves and making her scream her throat raw until she couldn’t anymore but still did.</p><p>When it finally stopped, and that was an eternity later, Hermione felt the warm tickle of blood in her mouth. She spat, the ground beneath her staining red. She laughed quietly. The floor was dark and the blood stood in a red stark contrast.</p><p>“I don’t care what Albus has told you, this has nothing to do with him.”, Gellert said.</p><p>He had come closer, his hand grabbing her hair and yanking it. More blood was running down her chin. She stared back into his dark eyes. They reminded her of Tom’s.</p><p>“A few weeks ago I took the Lady Nott.”, Grindelwald let her head fall and she nearly crashed face first into the ground if she hadn’t braced herself with her arms. He had taken Lady Nott… Hermione’s mind flashed with Raymond in the early morning receiving a stranger owl…</p><p><br/>“And Raymond was kind enough to offer his cooperation and he told me something very interesting.”</p><p>Hermione pushed herself up as best as she could and watched the dark wizard with his billowing robes. “A very powerful wizard, apparently, someone who surpassed anything that Nott has ever seen. I don’t believe that that… boy… could be better than me but his powers must be grand, still.</p><p>But more importantly, he already has the loyalties of all the Purebloods in Britain. Isn’t that absolutely fabulous? Control him”, Grindelwald crouched down to be level with her again and his lips pulled into another cruel smile “and control all of them”</p><p>Hermione’s mind pieced together the puzzle pieces.</p><p>“Ah, so I am your way of gaining control over Tom.”, she said, trying not to heave from the coppery taste of blood running down her throat.</p><p>“Yes, Tom Riddle will now do as I tell him to. And he will openly join me and therefore make every Pureblood join me.”</p><p>Hermione leaned back against the floor. Well, she got herself in quite the situation. It was doubtful that she would ever get out of this, Grindelwald wasn’t anybody.</p><p>He was clever and he would have made it nearly impossible for her to escape even if he didn’t know that she was capable of wandless magic. Her head touched the cool ground. The same strange smell reached her nose as before, it was cold and earthy and not, as one suspected, the rich smell of wood.</p><p>Turning around again she glanced at the floor. Strange dust-like particles were lying on the ground, similar to those dancing through the air. Strange… they looked like moonstone.</p><p>“I am not sure Tom would do anything you say to him, even for me.”, she said, her voice wavering. Surly, she couldn’t mean that much to Tom, even if he did to her. But it was Tom, the psychopath that wasn’t capable of love and… <em>feelings</em>.</p><p>“I doubted it too.”, it was the first time that Raymond spoke to her directly. “I thought it was just a passing fancy, nothing else. You aren’t even pure, after all.”, he said with a good measure of disdain. “But after you fled from the forest yesterday”</p><p>
  <em>Yesterday? </em>
</p><p>”you should have seen Tom. I was sure that he was going to kill all of them. They disobeyed him. But instead he obliviated Edger. Quite permanently, if I may so, he will probably never retain the power of speech properly again. He didn’t even torture him. It was very unlike Tom. He was so angry, I have never in my life seen him like that. The whole forest was bending to the power of his magic but he reigned himself in and took after you.”</p><p>“Yes, well, if you are so sure, why aren’t you afraid that Tom will go after you?”, she directed her question to Gellert Grindelwald who was idly playing with his wand. The man laughed a bellowing laugh that bounced from the walls and echoed through the hall.</p><p>“A very good question. “, he finally said, after having laughed for far too long.</p><p>That man was absolutely crazy, Hermione realized.</p><p>“Besides the fact that no one can stand a chance against me?”, he said and twirled his wand again. “This house is under the Fidelus charm. Only I, Raymond and now you can enclose its destination. And none of you will leave this house, so I really am not worried.”</p><p>Well, that was rather not good, Hermione thought as her eyes danced across the room again. Maybe she could find a way. She gazed at the ground again. The strange smell was still clinging to her nose. That was very peculiar.</p><p>Maybe it was Hermione’s sixth sense again but something was off.</p><p>Maybe it had something to do with the odd smell in the air or the moonstone-resembling dust on the floor something was not quite right. She looked around one more time. The air seemed to shift and bend. A tingle raced down her spine.</p><p>The shadows around her seemed to flutter.</p><p>“Well, that is clever, I have to adm-“, Hermione didn’t get any further, there was the tell-tale loud pop of someone apparating and suddenly she wasn’t bound anymore, her hands finally falling free. She nearly fell to the ground, so sudden and unexpected was the disappearance of her restraints.</p><p>The dark and oppressing magic of one angered Tom filled the room instantly and made her own magic rise to meet his.</p><p>She smiled, the ring on her finger pulsing with excited magic. It really was Tom, who was standing in the middle of the room, just at the right angle to block her from any kind of harm, his wand raised against Grindelwald.</p><p>Gellert reacted instantly, his wand pointed at the young man.</p><p>The elder wand seemed to glow with his magic, it was a dark, murky brown.</p><p>But Tom, Hermione’s eyes were instantly drawn to the man standing in the middle of the room. He looked like an avenging angel, his magic dark and unforgiving, swirling around him like a storm of death. But his magic seemed to seek her out, caressing her calves and arms. It settled over her like a warm save blanket.</p><p>“Hermione”, Tom spoke into the silence that had descended over them. “Are you alright.”</p><p><br/>“Fine”, Hermione grunted out while pushing herself to a standing position. Her muscles protest and her joints popped.</p><p>“That fucking hurt”, she mumbled.</p><p><em>Accio wand</em>.</p><p>Her wand came flying from Raymond’s pocket and Hermione caught it in mid-air, magic rushing through her. She grinned.</p><p>Her magic was like the first rays of sunshine after a long night, like the first fresh light of the world, peeking over mountain tops and reflecting in the still cold water.</p><p>“Well that didn’t work out as you planned it, did it now?”, Hermione said to Grindelwald and approached Tom whose magic was still crackling around him like a dark storm waiting to begin.</p><p>Tom’s hand grabbed her wrist and for a second their eyes met. Hermione saw so much in those few seconds, his gaze conveying so much emotion. His eyes danced over her face, taking in her blood and her unruly hair. She saw his angers, felt it pulsing in magic but she also felt his concern.</p><p>There hadn’t been time to prepare, their eye contact only lasted for a beat. Hermione didn’t know who was the first to fire a hex but suddenly all hell broke loose.</p><p>Tom pushed her away, blocking the first hex that was thrown in her direction with ease. Red and golden flashes of light bounced around the room, Gellert’s wand soon showing why it was the most powerful wand to ever exist. Hermione fired a stunner at Raymond who fell to the ground with a big thud.</p><p>Tom was ducking away from a dark brown muddy hex that had been cast his way. It bounced of the opposite wall and evaporated without leaving any trace. Hermione fired a <em>Reducto</em> and to her dismay Grindelwald batted the charm away without a second thought and without even looking at her.</p><p>No matter how powerful Tom was, Hermione realized, he could never win against Grindelwald. Even Voldemort in his later stages would struggle against the power of the elder wand, maybe he could win none the less, but not Tom, not this young.</p><p>The elder wand was vibrating with energy. It was the undefeatable wand, after all. Hermione’s shields, that had always been one of the strongest, were ripped apart by Grindelwald who was fighting not one but two wizards and definitely winning. They never stood a chance.</p><p>She locked gaze with Tom, his dark eyes hard but not without emotion. Hot flames of fire erupted from his wand-tip and zoned in on Grindelwald, enveloping him. Tom took the chance at the other wizard being a bit preoccupied to reach Hermione, grabbing her arm.</p><p>“Get out of here, Hermione, I will distract him and you just flee.”, he said in a low whisper but Hermione was already shaking her head because, no, she would never just go and flee. Never.</p><p><br/>“No, I won’t…”</p><p><br/>“Hermione, I only want you safe, please, I want you to live. The world is better off without me but not without you…”, his voice was so raw that a wave of despair and love rushed through her. Her eyes pricked with tears.</p><p><br/>“To bad, you know boy, that you won’t follow me. You could have been my successor.”, Grindelwald said in a booming voice, startling them both. He had extinguished the flames and not even one hair was amiss on his head. Tom pushed Hermione behind him.</p><p><em>Flee</em>, he hissed one last time before raising his wand.</p><p>“I don’t follow.”, Tom said, in a dark voice. “People follow me. I’d rather die than bend to some one’s will.”</p><p> “Truly too bad”, Grindelwald said, his steps light as he swaggered closer. “Too bad, my boy, we could have been great together, <em>Avada Kedabra</em>”</p><p>Green flashed through the room and Hermione didn’t have time to think, she didn’t have time to think about what she was doing, didn’t have time to consider her option or her alternatives.</p><p>It didn’t matter that Tom had Horcruxes and could technically not die because everybody knew what happen when Voldemort had been resurrected. That kind of state of existing wasn’t really better than death itself.</p><p>No, Hermione had long ago decided that the snake-like monster with slits for a nose and red eyes was nothing like Tom. <br/>Tom, the boy she loved, had nothing to do with that monster. It was soulless and not a human being.</p><p>But most importantly, she just saw the green flash and heard the words that she had heard too often in her life already and she realized that she it was like an instinct, something she would have done for Ron and Harry, too. It was like her sixth sense, it was just something that she did or had.</p><p>There had been no time for thought, no time to mull this over.</p><p>She just pushed and tripped, the flash hitting her squarely in the chest, knocking the air out of her lungs and pulsing through her body in one terrifying cold flash. The impact was forceful, making her fly or maybe she was already dead.</p><p>Maybe the flying sensation was <em>finally</em> her true death. Maybe it was finally over, finally finished and she wouldn’t have to live on. Maybe she would finally see all of them again. Remus, Tonks, Harry’s parents, Snape and all the others that had been lost. Maybe, some day, Harry and Ron and her parents would join, hopefully when they were old and had lived a full and happy life.</p><p><br/>She would miss Tom, she decided. She hoped he would take another path than the one that he had the first time round. She hoped he would get out of this house and live. Live a life that he could have had if life hadn’t been so cruel to him.</p><p>She hoped he wouldn’t take her death as a reason to go insane… again. She hoped he would take her memory and live better for it.</p><p>Her landing in the brittle desk that Gellert Grindelwald had leaned on before was hard and loud, the wood splintering all around her, making more dust and covering her with broken bits of wood, the small pain she felt by them digging into her skin was inconsequential. She was dead after all.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Plottwist!! I bet none of you saw that one coming... Well, I am sorry for updating so late, I have the oral part of my exam next week and it has been excruciating. I hate university sometimes...</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A few "flashbacks" in Toms PoV</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Many of the students made a habit of arriving early, especially those who were older. It wasn’t very dignified to travel like a bloody first year in that blasted train. Although, Tom had enjoyed the train when he had been younger but now he detested it.</p><p>Simply because it was such a muggle thing in such a magical world. It didn’t seem right, at least not for him. He would rather fly to Hogwarts or apparate but definitely not go by train.</p><p>Besides he never had liked trains. In his old world, as he liked to call it, in the <em>wrong</em> world, it had shipped the soldiers off to war, it had shipped luckier kids off. Children that had been deigned to deserve protection from the war in London.</p><p>But alas, he had never been worthy, not worth anything and apparently, if the Muggles were to be believed, he hadn’t even been worth to live. Well, they were all wrong, he had been special.</p><p>He was magical. Even in his own world Tom knew to be <em>better</em>. He was powerful and he loved it. His power and his intelligence made up the essence of his soul, it was his calling and his future.</p><p>But most important he loved Hogwarts because to him it was home where he never had had one. To him it was the place that showed him his place, it was the essence of the magical world. So it was no surprise that Tom was and always had been one of the first ones to arrive at Hogsmeade, wand and trunk in hand and a smirk on his face.</p><p>He loved Hogwarts but he was Tom Marvolo Riddle and he was, unfortunately, prone to become bored. Not that he would ever blame Hogwarts but nothing ever happened and if something happened it was him who had made it… well, happen.</p><p>So, his last year in school started just as any had, the feast had been grand and he had wondered at the abundance of food once again. He guessed that he would never really get over that.</p><p>He was used to a few slices of stale bread at most in the orphanage. But the feast had been as it had been all the years before, none of the first years looked to be special, they looked frightened and small. Had he been so small? He wanted to believe, no.</p><p>So, when Tom wandered the village Hogsmeade alone as he wasn’t really in the mood to entertain his so called friends, he let his gaze dance over the streets and houses. He knew all of the students, if not by name then from seeing them around the castle. His Headboy-badge gleamed in the sunlight.</p><p>He breathed in the last of the summer air and let his gaze dance over the many houses. It could be the one of the last times, he would be here. Then he would finally enter the real world and start the life that was destined for him. Him, the air of Slytherin, more powerful than all his peers and more cunning than any other Slytherin before him.</p><p>The first thing he noticed about her, even when he was deep in thought, was her hair. It was hard not to see, to be honest. There was just so much of it. It seemed to have a life of its own.</p><p>It was like her magic was embedded in the unruly curls and bounced between the chocolatey strands. Her stride was confident, that was the next thing he noticed about her. It wasn’t timid, it didn’t try to hide her. No, her steps were sure and determined.</p><p>Not like the Purebloods that he surrounded himself with. They were less forceful, even if they had learned from a young age to hold themselves with an air of superiority.</p><p>But somehow she was different. Her step didn’t convey that she was different or that she was to be handled with respect, no, the aura around her <em>demanded</em> respect. It told the story of having earned it, of having bled for it. It was the gait of a warrior.</p><p>Tom was captivated. His earlier thoughts forgetting in the light of this new object worthy of his attention. Never had he seen anybody who could come close to the odd elegance of this woman.</p><p>He had seen many things and many people. He had seen the most beautiful Pureblood women to grace the earth with their regal elegance, the oldest hags, the most powerful witches and the dumbest. But somehow they were all different.</p><p>They weren’t deserving of a second glance from him. The girl with the bouncing curls on the other hand…</p><p>The next thing that he noticed was the way her lean and lithe body moved.</p><p>No woman he knew could walk that kind of angelic grace and it made something in him stir. Her long robes bellowed behind her, opening and showing him a long dress (or was it a skirt?) that enhanced her slight figure. It was only moment but it made Tom follow her involuntarily.</p><p>He curls bounced with every step she took and if Tom and been any other man he would have said that it was endearing. But those kinds of things were beneath Tom and he was <em>not</em> like other men. Never would he entertain such trivial thoughts. He was above them, better than other people and not distracted by these temptation.</p><p>He was just interested because… well, he didn’t know that girl and he knew everybody. That was what he told himself as he followed her, his gaze never leaving her.</p><p>She entered Honeydukes and he followed. He didn’t even notice the smell of sweets that usually made him nauseated and never failed to give him a headache. His whole attention was on her, he didn’t see the many other students milling around, brushing up against him.</p><p>His eyes followed the woman and finally he dared to glance at her face. Anticipation had built itself up in Tom. He was eager to see her face. He wanted to know of was just one of the others, one of the common folk who bored him to death. He wanted to look into her eyes and see what lay beyond her.</p><p>Somehow, he was afraid to see a face like all the others, eyes dull and without any spark. He tried to will her to be <em>different.</em></p><p>He was not disappointed, only roped more into the mystery of the girl with the curls. Her face was just as lithe and angel-like as the rest of her. Lightly pronounced cheekbones, a straight nose and lips curved to perfection.</p><p>But her features were hard, her eyes, even if they seemed to be a molten golden brown and were radiating warmth, seemed a bit hollow.<br/>
What had happened to his angel, he asked him involuntarily? He burned with curiosity. What had made her look so soulless?</p><p>He could see the echoes of a warm and light soul which was now tainted. It made him a bit angry that there had been people before him that had looked upon her untouched form. He didn’t like that thought one bit.</p><p>The woman had stopped in front of a few bars of darker chocolate and he couldn’t not say something.</p><p>He would charm her, he decided, he would sate his curiosity and then the woman would become just any other girl in school like all the others, plain and uninteresting. He nearly felt a bit remorseful at that thought. It made him sad to think his angel becoming just another face in the crowd.</p><p>But alas, it had to happen. No matter who intriguing she seemed. Surly, she would lose her appeal as fast as she had gained it.</p><p>He approached her, feeling something like nervousness for the first time in his life. His eyes dance along the curve of her slender neck and he watched her bony fingers reaching for the chocolate but hesitating. She seemed to be thin, he noted.</p><p>Not in the way the Pureblood girls liked to starve themselves, to seem small and appealing to the other sex.</p><p>The woman seemed to be taunt and hollow in all the wrong places. It remained him of the soldiers that returned from the war. He had seen them a few times, coming from the train station, their eyes hollow and wide, set too deep in their faces and giving them an eerie look. The looked like death followed them.</p><p>“A very good choice.”, he said behind her, taking in how she jumped at his sudden appearance. Her hand went to a place in her robes where he suspected her wand to lie. How interesting.</p><p>“I myself favour the dark ones over those light, sugary bars. They make my teeth hurt.”, Tom continued, waiting for her to turn around an finally look at him and turn she did.</p><p>Her robes had been opened, now that she wasn’t in the cold outside anymore and he was in full view of her dress (or skirt) that accentuated her body in a way that made his lips pull into a smirk. For the first time in his life he could see what the other male students in his company talked about. Until now he had never really seen the appeal of the fairer sex.</p><p>But alas, now he could understand. He wanted to reach out and run his fingers along her curves, feel how she felt underneath his fingers. See if she would be soft or as hard and sharp as the rest of her.</p><p>He looked at her eyes, full of mistrust.</p><p>They were watching him with rapt attention. It made his curiosity burn brighter.</p><p>The other people always were too trusting. Especially women, when faced with a young man, would not hesitate to trust, Tom had learned, but she was watching him with reservation.</p><p>“I favour them too.”, she finally said after staring at him for a few beats too long to be considered polite.</p><p>He didn’t mind.</p><p>“Well, then I feel obligated to purchase it for you, Miss…?”, he said, putting on his best charming smile. She didn’t seem to fall for it, she only clutched the bar of chocolate closer to her chest.</p><p><br/>
“Thank you, that won’t be necessary.”, he didn’t miss how she didn’t give him her name.</p><p><br/>
“Oh, but I insist.”, Tom pressed on, suddenly unsettled to why this girl didn’t seem to react to him at all. Usually he had women and men eating out of the palm of his hands by now. Especially when he proposed to buy something for them.</p><p>It was by far the easiest way to ensure someone had a good opinion of you.</p><p>“Granger. My name is Granger. Hermione Granger.”, she finally hissed out and gave him the chocolate.</p><p>He purposely let his fingers brush over her skin. It was soft, he noted in the back of his mind, and warm. It made him want to smile like a predator circling his prey.</p><p>“Pleasure, Hermione, my name is Tom, Tom Riddle.”, he answered with another irresistible smile. Something, and he couldn’t quite place it, flashed through her eyes. A beat of silence followed before she seemed to unfreeze.</p><p>“I can’t but think that I don’t know you. I have not seen you around. Are you new?”, he finally let himself ask but he kept his tone light and conversational. He paid for the chocolate.</p><p>“Yes, I am new, I will be sorted at dinner.”, Hermione answered and wasn’t that absolutely delightful.</p><p>He would get to keep his angel.</p><p>“That is fabulous, so little happens at Hogwarts. Have you already heard about the houses?”, he asked not being able to keep the excitement out of his voice.</p><p>“Yes”, she answered curtly.</p><p>He frowned a bit at her open hostility against him. He hadn’t really done anything, had he?</p><p>“Well, I am in Slytherin.”, he said, not without pride. “I believe it is the best house but opinions differ very much you will find. If you want I can show you around in Hogwarts, it would be my duty as Headboy.”, that would be perfect, Tom mused.</p><p>He could show her Hogwarts, his home, nobody knew it better than him. He could show her places that he hadn’t shown anybody else. She would trust him afterwards and she would be thoroughly charmed.</p><p>“I will have to decline, Professor Dumbledore already showed me around.“, she answered again in that clipped tone.</p><p><em>Dumbledore</em>. A wave of jealousy rushed through Tom because that stupid old fool always got there first. He got to <em>his</em> angel first and that was unacceptable.</p><p>“Ah yes, I see…”, he said as he saw Dumbledore stand outside of the shop in his stupid red robes.</p><p>“I’ll leave you to it then, hopefully I will see you at dinner.”, he said.</p><p>He wanted to say more but Dumbledore was watching him, disdain obvious in the Professor’s eyes. It was clear that he didn’t want Tom close to Hermione but too late. Tom would get to his angel on another occasion. It didn’t matter, he may have lost one battle but he wouldn’t lose the war.</p><p>~</p><p>“Do you always follow girls to the bathroom?”</p><p>Hermione was panting and as he realized too late, watching him through the tilted side mirror.</p><p>He had followed <em>her</em>.</p><p>It wasn’t that he particularly thought her to be up to no good but seemed to keep to herself and he had been curious. Besides, he seemed to be unable to get her out of his head. Just the day before he had seen a side of her that had been so… different.</p><p>When she had played the piano, and she had played it beautifully, he had seen her eyes carefree and her face open.</p><p>She seemed to have lost herself in the music while hitting the keys softly. Had been enough to move him, dammit, and he was not easily moved. But in those few moments she had truly looked like an angel, a glowing halo of brown hair around her hair that was dancing with magic.</p><p>It was as if her very essence, her core magic, that was as light as the sun peeking over the tree tops, had woven itself into the music and made the air sing with it. He had been utterly helpless in the face of such beauty. It only made his resolve to conquer her, to have her, more resolute. Maybe, she would be one of his followers?</p><p>Maybe, he would get to corrupt her, turn the light into something gdark and terrible. But maybe he would get to keep her light to himself and not share it with any one.</p><p><br/>
“My apologies”, Tom finally said, trying to sound neutral. “I just saw you coming in here and thought that, as you are new, you wouldn’t know. This bathroom is not in use anymore, everybody avoids it.”</p><p>He had killed Myrtle after all.</p><p>“Yes, because of Myrtle, I heard.”, Hermione said and it sent shivers down his spine. His warrior was back. Her tone was hard, not giving an inch and it made him feel as if she <em>knew.</em> But no, that couldn’t be, nobody knew.</p><p>“Tim, was it?”, Hermione suddenly said and anger, wild and dark, flashed through his body.</p><p>How dare she? He couldn’t be so inconsequential to him that she wouldn’t even remember his name, could he? Was she making fun of him? He would show her that he was worth remembering. Show her just how good he was and how dangerous to cross.</p><p>“No”, he said slowly “Tom.”, <em>remember it</em>, he thought vehemently. Maybe he could press it into her brain, make it a constant in her life so she wouldn’t forget a second time.<br/>
Hermione only hummed non-committedly and it made his fingers twitch.</p><p><br/>
“Escort me to breakfast, will you?”</p><p>“With pleasure, Hermione”</p><p>“Thank you, <em>Tom</em>”, she said with a wide smirk.</p><p>She walked to the doorframe where he stood, her eyes not leaving him.</p><p>She had that stride again, the one that demanded respect. She had captured him with her warm, brown eyes. He didn’t want to look away lest he miss something.</p><p>“You seemed quite disturbed in there, Hermione. Are you alright?”, he asked casually. Everything about this girl, about his angel, seemed to be a mystery.</p><p>“Quite, thank you for your… concern.”</p><p>“It is the least I can do as my duty as headboy.”</p><p>“Ah yes, your <em>duty</em>. Tell me, Tom, how did Myrtle die?”</p><p>He nearly tripped over his own feet, and Tom never tripped, when she said those words.</p><p>There was a clear insinuation behind them. She couldn’t know! She couldn’t. Maybe Dumbleodre had said something?</p><p>It would fit the old fool to poison his angel against him. No matter, Tom promised himself that he would find out all her secretes. He would make her his and not Dumbledore’s and not anyone else’s.</p><p><br/>
“That is a long story and not something discussed before breakfast.”, he said in a final tone.</p><p><br/>
“What is our first lesson again? Ah, I remember it was Defence against the Dark Arts, wasn’t it?”</p><p><br/>
“Oh yes”, Tom said, watching the golden chain that was around her slneder neck and wondered what kind of jewlery she would wear. “We have started with the topic of Patronus and how to cast them but don’t fret, most won’t succeed in doing so and therefore there is no preasure on you.”</p><p>“I’m sure though you have already succeeded in it, haven’t you?”, Hermione said lightly, before adding with a bit of venom in her voice.</p><p>“Or do you lack happy memories Tom?”</p><p>He scoffed. He was Tom Riddle, he could do anything.</p><p>Just, the Patronus was a stupid spell. How stupid that a spell fed off a happy memory especially when the situations where the spell was needed were not the one’s where you could easily fall into Nostalgia and think happy thoughts.</p><p>It was stupid all around. He had a few other spells that could kill Dementors, a Patronus charm didn’t even do that.</p><p>“Patronus are quite unuseful in real life.”, he said to Hermione, the warmth of her hand seeping through his clothes. “Dementors can be swayed differently. Besides I can cast one, just not corporal”</p><p>That marked the end of their conversation, much to his disappointment. Hermione always left him feeling like he hadn't had the upper hand, which was... a first. And it made him want to duel her in a real fight, just so he could show her, that he was powerful, that he was better.</p>
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<a name="section0013"><h2>13. chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Death was not supposed to feel like this… again.</p><p>How often will Hermione have to go through this?</p><p><br/>She was a bit cold, the frost was creeping into her the longer she held her breath and waited. For what she waited, she wasn’t quite sure.</p><p>The coldness though was fitting. Death was supposed to be a lifeless hand reaching for one’s soul. It was supposed to be cold and devoid of any warmth. Maybe she really had died for good this time.</p><p>Then again, the dust filling her lungs was not very death-like. As wasn’t the pain that spread through her body with every passing second.</p><p>It started as a little burn in her joints but as the Adrenalin in her blood ebbed away it grew into a wildfire. She felt like she had broken several bones. Maybe she had? Were bones even a thing in the afterlife? Why couldn’t Hermione seem to get death right?</p><p>Maybe she was just strange. Because as the feeling in her limbs returned and she heard herself groan in pain, she realised with exasperation that she hadn’t died. <em>Again.<br/></em>The thought seemed to swim around her sluggish mind for a few seconds without registering fully.</p><p>She ripped her eyes open. <em>She wasn’t dead.</em> Had Grindelwald missed her? Who had been hit instead? <em>Tom?</em> Was Tom dead?</p><p>Hermione pushed herself up, gripping her wand tightly, ready to face whomever and whatever.</p><p>Her head hit something, making her groan once more. Why was she under a table?</p><p>Feeling a bit silly and not very threating, she crawled into the open. Her knees scratched against the hard floor, and her palms pressed against the coldness of it. She blinked into the darkness that lay before her, trying to make out the hidden figures of Grindelwald and maybe even Tom.</p><p>However, after her eyes adjusted to the lack of light, she realized that she was completely alone.</p><p>The long room stretched our before her, very much empty and silent. Hermione blinked again, clutching her wand like a lifeline. Her mind was racing, trying to figure out what had happened. Had they thought her dead and left her here?</p><p>She pushed herself up and stood on shaking knees, tasting blood on her tongue again.</p><p>Another groan left her bloodied lips. With trembling hands she checked herself over. Her body protested every movement with sharp stabs of pain but ultimately she was fine. Her head was pounding a bit, her mouth was dry but she was very much alive.</p><p>A terrifying thought came to her mind. Hysterically she grabbed her time-turner that was still hanging from her neck.</p><p>The broken glass cut her finger deeply. Bright red blood dripped from the tip of it and landed on the ground with soft tapping noise.  </p><p>Not caring for the sharp pain from the cut, Hermione ripped the stupid time-turner from her neck, ripping its fine chain. The turner was completely ruined.</p><p>Where it only had a few fractures the first time around, it was in total shards now. With a cry of total frustration and rage she threw the offending piece of jewellery far away from her. It flew through the empty room and cluttered to the ground, more glass spilling around it.</p><p>It was the only sound in the room and echoed from the walls unnaturally loud. It sounded hollow to Hermione’s ears. It sounded like laughter that was mocking her for being so stupid to having kept the turner. She had made the same mistake twice.</p><p>Falling to her knees, Hermione finally gave in.</p><p>Tears ran over cheeks, blood still dripping over her hand and to the floor. For a small eternity, Hermione just cried, her forehead touching the cold ground.</p><p>She lost everything again.</p><p>She lost Tom, she lost Harry, she lost Ron… She didn’t even know if Tom survived.</p><p>She knew nothing, not even where she was or when, for that matter. She didn’t know how long she sat on the ground crying and sobbing. However, slowly her mind returned to its calm preciseness as her confusing emotions ebbed away, fading into the background.</p><p>Abruptly, Hermione’s eye flew open again. Something was tickling her mind. It was as if she should notice something, like her subconscious had already pieced it together and now it was her time to see all the puzzle pieces.</p><p>The floor had lost the particular smell she had noticed the first time.</p><p>The strange dust-like substance was also absent. Hope flared in Hermione’s chest. Could it be? Maybe she hadn’t jumped back that far. Maybe just enough time to…</p><p>*</p><p>The resounding crack and thud of a body hitting the brittle piece of furniture echoed through the room. Splinters of wood were catapulted away and covered that what had been left behind by his Hermione. Dust rose and swirled through the air, tracing patterns in elaborate swirls.</p><p>She had been the first one, the first human being for which he had felt <em>something</em>, even if at first he had only been suspicion.</p><p>His happiness, his Hermione, had run through his fingers like sand, he should have gripped her and just <em>held</em> on.</p><p>Because now it was over, just as quickly as it had begun. Her life was gone, vanished with the wind and she had left him behind.</p><p>He felt anger rising in him, denial… because she had <em>left</em> him, dammit! How could she? He felt so empty, so terribly empty. It was as if his soul had left him them moment she had, too.</p><p>Or at least the piece that was left of his soul, which wasn’t much but it had been so full of light and… love, he guessed, when he had been with her. He had wanted her for him, only for him, ever only for him.</p><p>Because she was his, just as much as he was hers.</p><p>But now… now everything was gone. There was nothing to hold on to, nothing to keep him grounded, nothing to make him <em>want</em> to be better. There was no one he could try to be a better man for. No one… he was alone. She had left him. Just like his mother had. He had never been <em>enough</em> to keep people in this world. Death followed him where ever he went. Nobody held onto life just for him, they were all gone…</p><p>His magic was dark, her magic was light, his soul was lost without her and he knew that now while he stood in the room, alone once again.</p><p>And his anger, it was a dark pit of hatred and of so much power, fuelled by his grief and his hatred for the man that had taken her from him. She was<em> his</em>! Nobody had the right to take her. But she was gone! Gone…</p><p>If he hadn’t been blinded by unshed tears he would have savoured the seemingly endless pit of power that had opened itself to him.</p><p>Something that always been there but had been buried deep inside of him. It was as if he had been cracked open, the last straw, so to say.</p><p>He had succumbed to the darkness. Everything he wanted was to kill the man in the most excruciating way possible and he <em>would</em>.</p><p>He would make him suffer a thousand deaths and in the end he would savour the cold, dead blood running through his fingers and he would laugh. Because she was gone and never to return.</p><p>His wand had risen without him knowing.</p><p>His magic like a full fletched storm raging through the lands, destroying everything and everyone. He only left death behind. She had been the light to his darkness and without her there was only the endless blackness of the sea, hatred so fierce and dark that it swallowed everything else.</p><p>He didn’t even need spells anymore, his magic just ripped itself from him, hurtling to the man that had killed his Hermione and who would suffer… suffer so much…</p><p>Tom knew, he just knew, that the man wouldn’t be able to do anything against his magic because he, Tom, was more powerful in the face of the endless grief and hatred.</p><p>It was a storm, it was lightning, it was <em>magic…</em> And it was… nothing…</p><p>The air shifted, it grew cold, magicless… It was like a vacuum, the endless pit of dark magic that Tom had felt a second ago was gone…</p><p>Just evaporated into nothingness, lost in the wind… Nothing happened and wasn’t that just ironic. Not only had he lost her but also his magic. How delightful…</p><p>Stunned silence settled over the two men, both their wand raised.</p><p>Suddenly the craftfully carved sticks, which normally stood for so much, so much power, dark and light, and stood for a whole society of might and magic, were nothing more than just that… sticks.</p><p>“<em>Avada Kedabra…</em>”, Grindelwald’s voice broke the silence. “<em>Recucto. Crucio. Imperio.</em>”</p><p><br/>With a face of wonder Gellert Grindelwald looked at his wand… and shook it.</p><p>Like it was some kind of device that seemed to malfunctioning.</p><p>“Erm…”, he continued, apparently at a loss. “That is peculiar…”</p><p>Tom blinked at the man. <em>Peculiar</em>… that was a way to put it. Tom wasn’t sure what to say or do. He felt strangely adrift.</p><p>The door opened suddenly with a loud thud.</p><p>And maybe everything had happened a bit too fast for Tom. He usally prided himself in always knowing the game that was being played.</p><p>He saw things, noticed them. He always knew. No matter how complicated, he usually figured it out. He was always on top of the situation.</p><p>But now he just stared… because Hermione was dead and definitely not standing in the door way looking like she always does. Only with no blood caking her hair and face. No, because <em>that</em> could be impossible. Maybe he had started hallucinating?</p><p>“Hello, again. Gellert, Tom, it has been a while. Well, not for you but for me anyway.”</p><p>Hermione Jean Granger was standing in the doorway, her hair just as unruly as usually, her clothes fresh and not dusty and muddy like they had been just a moment ago. And in her hand she was… carrying guns? Tom’s eyes were glued to the muggle weapons she was holding in her hands because… what?</p><p>“Hermione?”, he asked, his voice hoarse and unbelieving. She glanced at him and smiled.</p><p>“Yes Tom, it’s me.”</p><p>Her voice floated towards him, filling his soul and heart.</p><p>A tiny slither of hope fluttered in his chest. But Tom had been disappointed too much in his life. It could not be that fate gave this, gave her, back to him. Fate hated him and had only ever brought bad things. It couldn’t be.</p><p>“What the fuck.” Gellert Grindelwald said, his Elder Wand still gripped in his hand. “Are you doing here? Is this not working?”, he asked, shaking his wand again. “I killed you”, the latter sounded a bit like a sulking child whose favourite toy wasn’t working anymore.</p><p>“Raymond I would stay on the ground if you don’t want to be shot.”, Hermione suddenly said, every pair of eyes went to Raymond Nott who had been released from his body bind and was trying to right himself again.</p><p>Hermione took a few steps into the room, going straight for Tom.</p><p>Raymond stared at the woman in front of him with wide eyes and slumped back to the ground. Hermione didn’t care, she only had eyes for the boy in front of her. Dark eyes, the most intense she had ever seen them, were staring at her shining with unshed tears.</p><p>She stared into the dark orbs and found fragile hope in them. Hope that it was indeed her.</p><p>“Hi”, she whispered when she reached him.</p><p>Her hand raised itself on its own accord as to touch him but Hermione stopped a breath away from his face. There would be time later. She had to hurry. Otherwise this wouldn’t end well.</p><p>Turning she spoke loudly.</p><p>“I think we can all agree that you all don’t know what happened. Now… I will explain everything but Raymond, be a dear, and stand next to Gellert.</p><p>You all don’t have magic anymore but I have Muggle weapons and I will not hesitate to use them.”</p><p>Raymond, confused to the mixed orders he was getting, slowly rose from his position. His eyes stayed on Hermione as to check if she really meant it. He wouldn’t risk the wrath of a woman who had just lived through the killing curse.</p><p>“They are <em>muggle</em>” Gellert spat, taking a step in her direction “what could they ever-“</p><p>A loud bang ripped through the air. Raymond jumped and leapt, where to, he didn’t know.</p><p>He didn’t even know what those weapons did. The next second he saw Gellert crumble, clutching his thigh.</p><p>The wizard screamed in pain, his leg giving out and blood pouring from his wound. Apparently something had embedded itself in Gellerts wound.</p><p>Raymond stared in disbelief.</p><p>“Now, I think we have established who holds the power here.”, Hermione said as soon as Grindelwald had finally quietened down, his face pale and covered in a sheen of cold sweat.</p><p>“You fucking bitch”, he hissed, still clutching his thigh.  “You should have stayed dead.”</p><p>“Well, you see, I was never dead.”, Hermione answered.</p><p>She smiled up at Tom, who was beginning to understand. His Hermione was not dead, she was alive and she was next to him. Hope bloomed in his chest like a blossom in the first stages of spring.</p><p>His Hermione had not left him, she was still here. She handed him one of the guns she was holding in her hand. He took it gingerly, letting his hands brush over her cheek. She was real! She was alive! He had to touch her. He had to! He would never let her go again, he promised silently. His hand grabbed hers, his finger brushing over her pulse. A steady rhythm greeted him.</p><p> “You know Gridelwald, I landed here in this time by accident. I am from about fifty years in the future.”</p><p>Grindelwald slowly seemed to understand that there had been some things, he couldn’t have anticipated. It slowly dawned on his face. It was truly spectacular, like watching the sun set.</p><p>“What?”, Nott said, his voice incredulous. “That’s bullshit, that can’t be.”</p><p>“Oh, but it is. Before you ask Grindelwald, no you don’t reign in the future. You are rotting away in some kind of prison. Nobody is afraid of you. No, we have our own dark wizard, way worse than you have ever him. The First Wizarding War began 1970 and ended in 1981. It ended with the dark wizard dying because of a fatal mistake. I won’t bore you with the details but the name of the wizard was Lord Voldemort.”</p><p>Nott gasped audible and took a step back, his eyes glued to Tom.</p><p>“Or, as only his friends knew him, <em>Tom Marvolo Riddle</em>. If you change the letters a bit they spell <em>I am Lord Voldemort. </em>In my time he was only called <em>You-know-who </em>because nobody even wanted to say his real name. I spent my last year on the run from this dark wizard and before I accidently landed myself in the past, I was fighting a big battle right on Hogwarts grounds. I, or rather my necklace, was hit by a killing curse. Just like a few moments ago.”, Hermine said and pulled on the chain around her neck.</p><p>The golden timeturner dangled from her finger. It was completely cracked through, the glass having fallen away and the gold not as shiny as it used to be. It definitely didn’t work anymore.</p><p>“The first time it sent me back fifty years, the second time only two weeks before breaking completely and now being beyond repair. So you see, what had only been a few seconds for you, has been a pretty long time for me. Enough time to come up with a plan."</p><p>Hermione grinned at to the men in front of her. Raymond had turned whiter and whiter by the second. Even for a wizard this story was completely absurd.</p><p>“You see, I finally understand why Moonstone is scattered around the room. I noticed it the second I woke up here. At the time I thought it was simply a coincidence”, Hermione gestured around the room.</p><p>For some the Moonstone only looked like dust but the distinct earthy smell had given it away.</p><p>“So first things first, why the Moonstone? The perks of being from the future. There is a kind of ritual that can temporarily bind all magic in a limited space. A key ingredient is Moonstone. But the best part is that he was invented 1972. So none of you could know what the Moonstone was doing here. Second, I left Tom a note with the location of this house. After all, it was under the Fidelus charm but you enclosed it to me, so I could give it away, too.”</p><p><br/>“That was you?”, Tom asked.</p><p>He had found a letter from Grindelwald, explaining everything and a note sticking to it, telling him where to go. Hermione only nodded.</p><p>At the time he had thought it to be a trap. But he had walked into it willingly, his only thought on Hermione. Hermione who would have been alone and probably in pain. He had to do something.</p><p>“Then I had to get these”, she gestured at the guns they were holding. “That was, surprisingly, the hardest part. And then I contacted the Ministry with a Patronus, before coming here. They should be coming in about… now.”</p><p>A crack was heard somewhere, indicating people apparating. The sound was muffled by the walls that surrounded them but it was clear to them all that Aurors were somewhere in the house and would come to this room any second now.</p><p>“<em>Obliviate</em>”, the two men fell to the ground with a heavy thud. “Well, now they won’t remember.”, Hermione said and threw her gun to the ground, kicking them with her feet so the slid far away from them.</p><p>“I think I look a bit too put together, don’t you think?”, she pointed her wand at herself, tearing her own clothes in some places and covering herself in dust and mud.</p><p>She nodded to herself. This had to be at least half believable.</p><p>This was her chance to change the whole future. Her chance to give Tom the opportunity he never had. A way in. A shortcut, just as she had said to Slughorn.</p><p>“Hermione”, Tom finally said, his brain running wild with the information that he had been given.</p><p>He didn’t even care. He pulled her into his arms, pressing her to his chest, and letting his head settle on the top of her head. He breathed in, finally having her again. She wasn’t dead. She was alive. She hadn’t left him.</p><p>“Don’t ever”, he chocked out, “do that to me again, do you understand? Never.”</p><p>His voice broke at the last word, and he pressed her more tightly to him.</p><p>Hermione only encircled him with her arms.</p><p>“I love you, Hermione.”, Tom whispered. “And I am that man who would give everything up for you. I don’t want to be the man you described from your future. I want to be your husband and I want to make you happy. I want…”</p><p>Hermione’s eyes filled with tears.</p><p>“I want that too, Tom, I only want you.”, she whispered back. The door to the room was ripped open but the two only looked at each other.</p><p>Shouts were heard but Hermione didn’t listen. She only looked at Tom, the man she loved.</p><p>“What the fuck happened here?”, the tall lanky Auror asked as he finally reached them, shifting his weight and watching them curiously.</p><p>“You got my Patronus?”, Hermione asked, her voice thick with tears.</p><p>Silently she was glad that she sounded so shaken. Even if it was for different reasons.</p><p>“Yes, that was yours? How the fuck did you do that?”, the Auror said, still weary.</p><p>Hermione sniffed, tears still running down her face.</p><p>The other Aurors, in their long black robes, were binding Grindelwald and Nott in the background.</p><p>“Oh, it was terrible.”, Hermione said with as much fright in her voice she could muster. “I was taken by this… lunatic. Apparently Raymond Nott was a spy in Hogwarts for Grindelwald and they knew that Dumbledore was a family friend. They wanted to get to him through me. But Tom.”, Hermione clutched Tom’s arm and turned to him with big eyes.</p><p>The Auror finally shifted his attention to the tall young man next to the distressed woman.</p><p>“Tom was so brave, he came to my rescue and together we fought against Grindelwald. I sent a Patronus to the Ministry and together we were able to get Gellert Grindelwald. It was a fierce battle but I have to admit, Tom did most of the work.”, Hermione finished and winked at Tom.</p><p>Her back was to the man. He didn’t see the sly smile spreading over her face.</p><p>Tom fingers dug into Hermiones arm, where he was still holding her, not ready to let her go.</p><p>The Auror in front of him nodded eagerly, respect sparkling in his eyes.</p><p>A man defeating Grindelwald, even if he was young, he could believe but not such a small woman.</p><p>That was just ridiculous.</p><p>She probably only hid behind the young man. The Auror nodded again.</p><p>That made sense. After all, he could feel the magic pulsating around the young man, he must be most powerful.</p><p>“Well, I think the whole world will thank you, Mister…?”</p><p>“Tom, Tom Riddle, Sir.”</p>
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